Deliverer
by Elanor Joy
Summary: A princess who doesn't know she's a princess meets a king who she doesn't know is a king. Incidentally he happens to be the king she needs to help her save her country. Except she doesn't know her country needs saving until Aslan straightens things out.
1. Prologue and Chapter 1

**_IMPORTANT Author's Note:_ **I am in the process of having this story properly betaed. The chapter that have the chapter title with just a number (ei. "6") are the chapter that haven't been beated yet. Also, as I went back and edited everything, I changed several characters, so if there's a discrepency as far as that's concerned, that would be why. That said, thank you very much for reading this and enduring the confusion. God bless!

**Prologue**

"_No!"_

_Rhoswen sank onto the bed in her little room in a Calormene inn and dropped her head into her hands. The news that had been brought to her made her head spin. She didn't want to obey. She couldn't obey. He was talking about all the pain and suffering they'd run from. And he wanted her to send the baby back. Fariishta Riana, Princess of Terebithia, was all that remained of her dead brother and sister-in-law. It wasn't fair. The tiny green-eyed baby couldn't be the savior of Terebithia._

_Then she remembered the look in the grave lion's eyes, the Lion of her grandmother's homeland. Aslan, he'd been called in her mother's stories. He was good to all who loved him, but he was not by any means a tame lion. His look had told her that it didn't really matter if she cooperated or not: the baby was going to save her people._

_Aslan had said other things too: that she must hide; to go deep into the woods, where no one could distinguish her as a royal maiden. That she was to give the child a false name and to teach her in the ways of her grandmother. He wanted her to raise the child to be strong and courageous and kind. He said to be patient, he would come. And with that he disappeared into the night, leaving Rhoswen with the desire be disobedient and the terrible fact that she couldn't be._

OoOoOo

(Two months later)

_Rhoswen looked at the green-eyed little baby and sighed. They should have already been in Archenland by now and the caravan driver had just informed her of yet another delay. Fae (who was once called Fariishta Riana) was fast asleep on a Calormen bed which, in Rhoswen's opinion, wasn't much more than a huge pile of pillows. It had been a long day of travel, her niece had remained a happily cooing creature; Rhoswen, however, felt like screaming curses upon the idiot caravan driver who'd delayed their advancement to Archenland far too long in her opinion._

_She tenderly brushed a dark curl from the child's forehead, letting her finger trail along the soft, pink cheek before pulling a blanket up to her chin. She smiled at the peace in the baby's face, glad the howling desert winds weren't disturbing her. It had been a long journey, and there was still much to go. They were camped just outside of Tashbaan and the Great Desert lay before them. After crossing that it was her plan to head to the Archenlandish and Narnian border and live in the hill country until the time came. _

Oh Aslan, please let it be the right course… _was her last thought before she succumbed to weariness and fell into sleep._

OoOoOo

(Six months later)

_Rhoswen shoved her only trunk deep into the back of the cellar of the little cottage she had found for herself and Fae. It was located deep in the woods that bordered Archenland and Narnia and the nearest village was well over five miles away. Long ago had she traded her jewels and baubles from Terebinthia for more simplistic, practical things such as a horse and supplies. This trunk contained the rest of her worldly belongings and the most important belonging Fae had: a sword that Fae would need years from now; a sword that Rhoswen wanted to keep far from her memory._

_There was a loft that she'd made a storeroom out of. Later she would turn it into a room for Fae, but that was a long way off. She would take the little room adjacent to the staircase leading to the cellar, to better keep Fae from discovering the secrets it contained._

OoOoOo

(Seventeen years later)

_Rhoswen had waited for nearly eighteen years. She'd thought he would forget. She hoped that Aslan had found some other champion for the island and its people. She spent her sleepless evenings begging him to go find someone who was strong and a proven warrior. Someone who'd conquer the foe and return the island to it's rightful heiress willingly. Of course, Rhoswen had no such luck._

_He came to her one quiet afternoon in late summer. Fae had left the morning before with their little horse and cart to get supplies from the village. He told her it was time and to prepare Fae to leave before the end of the week. The sooner the better he'd said. Rhoswen's heart broke._

"_Do you trust me, oh daughter of Narnia?"_

_Rhoswen stared deep into the eyes of the Lion. His gaze was steady and confident, firm but gentle. When she looked in his eyes, she knew he understood what he was asking her to do. She wanted to cry, but not for reasons she thought she would. She knew she had to what he asked; she wanted to do as he asked. _

"_Yes. Aslan, I trust you."_

"_Then rest in the assurance that your charge will be under my care and that I will watch over her throughout her entire journey."_

"_Her journey?"_

"_To Cair Paravel to beg the aid from the Emperor of the Lone Islands himself: the High King Peter."_

**Chapter 1**

Fae was on her way home from the village when she saw him. He was beautiful, huge and golden in the setting sun and he was walking towards her and away from the woods where Rhoswen's cottage was hidden from most of Archenland. Rhoswen had told her stories when she was a tiny child; stories about a faraway place and good, peaceful kings and horrid, dark lords who made war on the poor kings and a lion called Aslan who came to bring peace to the country and set everything right. It had never occurred to her that the lion might have been real until she laid eyes upon his magnificence. And when he stopped directly in front of the cart and spoke soothing words to the horse, it made perfect sense to get off the cart and drop to her knees.

Silence filled the woods. Even the birds were silent, watching to see what the great Aslan would do. The stillness was so enormous that Fae felt it pressing her until she thought she'd explode. Then he laid a grand, velvet paw lightly on her head.

"The Lady Rhoswen has taught you well, rise."

Fae rose slowly and dusted the dirt from her skirt with shaking hands. When Aslan touched her something had stirred deep inside her and the powerful emotion gave her such a jolt that she felt faint and on fire all at once.

"Are you the great Aslan from the stories Rhoswen told me as a child? If you are then tell me to do anything and it shall be done. And if you're not then you must be even greater than he and I will still do anything you say."

A deep chuckle from deep in his chest made the ground beneath her feet shake and the leaves on the trees tremble.

"I am one and the same and it is good that you know me. Hasten to your cottage for your aunt Rhoswen has important news for you and it needn't be delayed any longer."

He turned to leave and she reached out to him.

"Where are you going? Surely you could pass the night with us. The cottage is not far."

She spoke more out of longing to be with him over anything else and he knew it. He stopped and turned to her, the tiniest look of reproach on his face. She blushed and dipped into a quick but clumsy curtsy.

"I'm needed elsewhere tonight. You shall see me soon enough. Now go home. She's waiting for you."

Fae curtsied again and climbed back into the cart. When she turned to the road all that remained of his presence was dust, shining in the fading sunlight. She flicked the whip and bade the little horse to hurry home.

OoOoOo

"Rhoswen! Oh, Rhoswen!" Fae cried as she ran through the door. "I met him! Aslan! from the stories! He's real! Oh so real! And just like you described him too! Rhoswen, He's amazing. Why--?"

The woman who had raised her looked up sharply when Fae burst through the door and cut her off gently. "I'll tell you all about it later. Now do please unload what you've brought while there is still some daylight."

Fae snapped her mouth shut and turned to carry out the deed. She hurriedly unloaded the cart and stabled the horse, her mind whirling with questions. After they'd eaten a tensely quiet supper (vegetable stew, brown bread, and for dessert, wild black berries) and cleaned up the supper dishes, Rhoswen sat in her rocking chair by the fire, still silent on the matter that weighed most heavily on both their minds. Fae continued to clean up the cottage wordlessly, anxious for answers, but knowing it was not Rhoswen's way. After rocking for awhile, Rhoswen spoke:

"Now then, Aslan came to visit me this afternoon while you were away." Fae nodded, but kept silent, "He is the one who told me what I am about to tell you." Here she smiled, but it wasn't a happy smile. "You must keep in mind my dear, if Aslan said it, it must be."

"Oh yes."

"You must go to Narnia."

"Narnia…" she breathed, excitement rising in her breast as well as a longing to see the land she lived so close to but had never seen.

"Yes dear. You'll be traveling to Cair Paravel of the four thrones. There you must tell High King Peter that Aslan has sent you and that you need his aid very desperately."

"I do? For what?"

"That I cannot tell you. It is better if you do not know."

Fae gave her a quizzical look and Rhoswen sighed.

"It will keep you safe, my dear. Anyway, I'll warrant that Aslan will tell you all you need to know in good time. Faith is what you need and I haven't raised you with a lack of it. All will be well."

"When do we leave?"

Rhoswen sighed again.

"Dearest, I cannot go with you. I'm sorry. I wish I could. But you see, there are things that must be done and I'm told I'm the only one who can do them."

Fae regarded the woman who'd raised her carefully. She seemed tired and older that her thirty some years. But she was also at peace and Fae saw that she had confidence in her, confidence that Fae didn't feel for herself. She felt the pride beaming from the woman's deepest heart when she finally spoke:

"Then...when do _I_ leave?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

We move now to a late morning four days later, Fae was wandering through the Great Forest of Narnia trying to locate the Great River. She had a sword in an old leather scabbard hidden beneath her cloak and a pack on her back. She walked in silence, shaking of the last bits of sleep from her limbs. She was trying to find a large forked elm tree that if she climbed it would help her see a clearing that had a path leading to the river. At least those were the directions a squirrel had given her. Now, standing in the midst of a stand of large elm trees so dense the sunlight was green and observing several trees with forked trunks, she was growing frustrated. There was no one to ask for directions, most of the animals of the Great Forest were unaccustomed to humans and fled her presence or would not speak to her. Only the curiosity of a young squirrel had given her the opportunity to ask. He had chattered at her and then vanished.

"Serves me right…" she muttered to herself and stamped her foot.

Her scabbard bounced and a new bruise was added to the array on her thigh. She yelped and jumped. Unfortunately her foot caught a root on the way down and she fell with quite a lack of grace. The scabbard lurched up and the pommel of her sword gave her a good smack in the middle of her back. She lay back on the forest floor, exasperated. A slight rustling behind her drew her attention away from her hurts. It was the second time she'd heard the odd noise since entering the stand. She glanced over her shoulder, but saw nothing. She sat up and stealthily withdrew a short knife from where it was strapped to her ankle and moved it to her belt. She quickly rearranged her skirts and carefully stood.

Resolutely she chose a large forked elm and strode to it. She slipped the sword from around her waist and slung the belt over her shoulder. Then she found a low limb and scrambled up. She climbed high enough to see above the other trees and spied out the little clearing easily enough. She estimated that she could reach it just after the sun reached its peak in the sky. Satisfied, she scrambled down and went on her way, listening carefully to the noises in the surrounding forest.

It took her a bit longer than she had guessed, but she finally made it to the clearing. On the way she had heard noises behind her three more times, but had seen nothing. Prudence told her to keep moving through the clearing, but her tired feet and grumbling stomach decided otherwise. She settled down in the midst of the clearing and set her pack in front of her, digging through it for the food Rhoswen had packed. When she looked up there were three Dwarfs were in front of her, all wearing black and with long black beards.

No sooner had she drawn her knife from her belt then was a dagger at her throat. She saw then that they were all three armed, one smaller, perhaps younger, than the rest was awkwardly holding an axe, another big fellow held a club and, of course, the leader had a dagger. Fae wondered to herself just how dangerous these fellows were and with an annoyed huff she lowered her knife.

The second thought she had after her frustration was that it must be very warm an all black outfit and she said so (she'd faced far bigger threats than this in the forest where bears and wild cats roamed and thus, was not too terribly frightened). Needless to say, this caught the Dwarves off guard. The dagger wavered in the hand of the leader and the smallest one in the bunch opened his mouth and replied:

"Yes, it does get horribly hot in the summer. It's not so bad now that the trees are changing though."

The oldest and blackest Dwarf (the one holding the dagger) let out an aggravated cry and tipped his head towards the two.

"Now why'd you have to go and do a thing like that? Now she won't be nearly as afraid of us."

"On the contrary..." Fae murmured, rubbing her temple absently. This comment brightened the face of the offender quite a bit.

"You hear that Thad? She's still afraid," offered the third helpfully.

"She is now, isn't she? Well then, that changes things. But _don't_ let it happen again, alright?"

"Of course elder brother." The comment was said with some sarcasm that did not go unnoticed by either Fae or Thad. The angry Dwarf ignored the barb, but Fae saw the displeasure flicker across his face before he poked the dagger at her and spoke:

"Good. Now then, what have you in that pack?"

"Just my things: food, a comb, a clean handkerchief..."

"Really? That's it? No money or jewels or anything?" The dagger drooped a bit.

"Well, there's my best skirt, but I'm afraid it's a bit long for you."

The two behind Thad exchanged funny looks and it was all she could do not to snicker.

"Well, we'll take it anyway."

"Must you really? That's all the food I have until I get to Cair Paravel and I don't know how long it'll take to get there. Perhaps you could help me?" She looked past Thad and at the smallest one and smiled. The Dwarf smiled in turn and spoke:

"Cair Paravel, eh? That's not to very far from here," he said. "If you hurry you can be there four or five days hence."

"No," said the other Dwarf, "She'd need to stop rather late today if she did that. It's beginning to get dark earlier now, so it'd be best if she stopped earlier." He looked toward Fae, "It's not at all safe to be in the forest alone at night."

Thad had been looking at his two accomplices aghast.

"You're giving her directions! What kind of bandits are you two?"

"Friendly ones," offered Fae pertly.

Thad glared at her and raised his dagger towards her throat.

"You keep out of this, you--!"

He was broken off by rustling in the bushes followed by the appearance of a beautiful copper horse and its handsome rider from the edge of the clearing.

"Ho! The squirrel has spoken in truth!" the young man said, almost surprised. "But the lady has met up with fell company! Ought we to rescue her, Jamison?" he asked his horse. The horse ( a dumb beast) made no reply, but the young man nodded emphatically as if it had. "I thought so too."

He dismounted and drew his sword. The Dwarfs were running before he could take a step. He raised his eyebrows at their retreating figures and marched purposely to Fae, offering her his hand.

"It seems the danger is gone, fair lady."

"So it does."

She stood without his help. He arched an eyebrow, but said nothing. The amusement in his eyes faded into seriousness as they ran over her; assessing her for injuries, or so she thought.

"Am I alright?" she asked, smiling lightly and putting her knife away. The amusement returned, but there was still a hint of seriousness behind it.

"You appear to be."

"Good news indeed."

"Indeed. May I ask you a question, lady?"

"I am indebted to you good sir, I will answer to the best of my ability."

"It is not often that humans are found in this area of Narnia, particularly humans traveling alone. Who are you, from whence do you come, what brings you to the Great Forest and where do you plan on going?"

"A lot of questions for a single service. But I will answer you. My name is Fae. I am from Archenland. I am trying desperately to find the Great River, said to be located in the Great Forest and I hope to use it to navigate to its mouth and Cair Paravel where I have an important errand."

"What sort of an errand?"

"Do not think me rude or dishonest, sir, but I know very little of this and what I do know, I cannot speak of. If it would put your mind at ease, I mean Narnia no harm."

He narrowed his blue eyes and examined her intently. She met his gaze and did not waver beneath his probing eyes. He regarded her silently for some time before nodding slowly.

"Let's hope not. Pardon my rudeness, Lady Fae."

"You did it only to protect the place you love. I cannot begrudge you, Sir…?"

"Uh--Pete. Sir Pete, knight of the most Noble Order of the Lion, in service of Cair Paravel."

"Sir Pete then, will you allow me your answers to your own questions?"

"I will do so. I am Pete, knight of the Cair and from the same. I am with a scouting party looking into a matter of strange happenings reported in the area and I plan on going back to camp soon. I also plan on asking you to accompany me."

"Whatever for?"

He saw her tense and noted that her hand crept towards the knife at her belt and not towards the sword in its dirty scabbard before he spoke.

"Do not be afraid. No lady has ever been harmed by a knight in the service of the Cair. You don't need the knife." Her hand eased back to her side, but her posture was still rigid. "Things are not right here. There have been reports of strange men wandering about and as you experienced, there is a small remnant of the Witch's army hiding here. Besides, I don't know if I can trust you to go running about on your own." She arched her eyebrows and he quickly put her mind at ease. "You would be much safer with my company and we would not hinder you from your errand. We are camped on the Great River and I would see to it that you received a guide to the Cair."

At length she accepted his offer. Her pack was strapped to the back of the horse's saddle and she rode behind him. As they rode he felt the tenseness leaving the arms that encircled his waist and their conversation grew relaxed and candid. He was enjoying this lady and the fact that she did not know him to be royal. The only women that didn't speak to him with in the flowery language of the court were his own sisters. There was a small pang of guilt for not revealing his true identity, but he ignored it. He assumed she was the younger sister to a lady in the service of the Archenlandish duchess he knew to be visiting the Cair and he did not expect to see this young woman again after she took her leave from him the next morning.

Fae was enjoying her part as well. She liked the humorous knight well enough. He treated her with all honor of a princess, yet he was easy to talk to and laughed readily. She had rarely talked with men. The shopkeepers in the village had grown to recognize her as her shopping trips marked the changing of the seasons and they had known her by name and she'd had short, pleasant conversations with them. And there was the goatherd that drove his flock close to the cottage every few months. She knew him well enough to call him friend. But the goatherd had never made her laugh as this knight did nor did she ever feel this light around him.

About an hour and a half later, they came upon a river and not too long after that a bustling camp. It was swarming with creatures she'd never seen, but recognized from the stories Rhoswen had told her. Creatures with human heads and torsos but animal's legs, red and black bearded Dwarves, and all manner of dangerous looking beasts were roaming about it. They dismounted and a young Satyr page came quickly for the horse. Several nodded to them and exchanged questioning glances over the newcomer, but the first to approach was a middle aged Faun who Pete pulled aside and spoke to quietly before introducing him as Selwyn.

"It is an honor to meet you, Lady Fae. If it pleases you, I can show you to the mess tent, for I hear that your noon meal was interrupted. After that perhaps we shall see about finding you lodging for the evening."

She glanced at Pete for his approval. He nodded and said, "I must make a report about those Dwarfs. I'll find you before supper. Until then milady."

He bowed and hurried away and she turned to the Faun with a smile. He exaggerated extending his arm to her and she took it, enjoying her play as a gentlewoman.

"Lead on, my dear sir."

"With pleasure."

They walked at an easy pace, the Faun inquiring about her journey and her encounter with the Dwarfs and answering her questions with good natured smiles. He, too, treated her as if she were a princess and she was prompted to ask:

"Tell me, Sir Selwyn, are all the knights of Cair Paravel as gentle spoken as you and Sir Pete? For no man has ever spoken to me so sweetly as the two of you."

"I cannot speak for anyone but myself. I belong to the Royal Guard and learned my sweet speech from listening to the Four."

"What brings you to the Great Forest?"

"Ahh…I follow my captain and he is here."

" I see."

She did not ask him what his captain was doing in the Great Forest, sensing that he was uncomfortable with the subject and they walked in silence until they reached the mess tent. After eating a light meal they went in search of a place for her to sleep. Selwyn found her a hammock and discovered where her pack had been stashed. Then he brought her to a large and secluded site by the river with several brightly colored hammocks hanging from the trees and a single fire circle was in the middle.

"This is where our female warriors rest. I do not doubt that you could pass the night here. They should start returning soon, but I would wait to hang your hammock until you know whether or not the tree or the ground beneath it is occupied. Please rest here until the supper bell. I must go back to my duties, so I must take my leave of you. Can you find your way back to the mess tent?"

"Yes. Thank you for your help, Sir Selwyn. You have been most kind to me."

"It was a pleasure, milady. Until we meet again." He bowed quickly and then hurried off.

She sank down on a rock by the river and proceeded to wash the grime of four days from her skin. Then she took a comb from her pack and wrestled the tangles out of her hair while she let her feet dangle in the cool water. Feeling refreshed and much cleaner than she had in sometime, she set to reorganizing her pack. That didn't take as long as she'd hoped. Neither did braiding her hair, nor finding wood for the fire. She paced the length of the site thrice before perching on a log near the fire and clenching her hands tightly to keep from twiddling her thumbs (an action that is not at all ladylike, as I'm sure you know). She stood and resisted the urge to go find Sir Pete or Selwyn and instead paced the length of the site again. When she turned return to the other side of the site a large tigress sat in her way. She froze, her eyes widening and her face paling. The tigress didn't seem to notice her fear and spoke in a low, throaty voice:

"Lady Fae? I am Valda. I was sent to bring you to the…to Sir Pete. If you would be so kind as to follow me."

Fae nodded dumbly and the tigress turned. Fae followed slowly, with great precaution, and was sure to stay several steps behind her. They had not left the site before Valda glanced over her shoulder.

"You have nothing to fear Lady. Come, walk beside me. Tell me of your travels. I hear you're from Archenland?"

They chatted easily enough after Fae got over her apprehension. Fae found it lovely to speak with a female again. Something in the tigress' manner reminded her of Rhoswen and she truly enjoyed their conversation. All too soon they reached a large red and gold tent. Sir Pete was standing in front of the door with a centaur. He smiled when he saw the two.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," he said to Valda. The tigress nodded and turned Fae.

"I leave you here, but I will see you later tonight. Until we meet again Lady Fae."

"Thank you for all your help, Lady Valda. I look forward to seeing you again."

Sir Pete then greeted Fae and introduced her to the Centaur, a Colonel Dartagnan, who took his leave of them quickly. Sir Pete offered her his arm (completely serious and without the faintest hint of mockery as Selwyn had) and he led her towards the mess tent.

"I hope you don't mind, but I've taken the liberty of asking the cook to prepare a picnic. Would you accompany me, Lady Fae?"

"On one condition."

"Oh?"

"That you would stop calling me 'lady.' I'm just a forest maid. Fae suits me much better."

"Only if you agree to return the favor."

"Thank you, Pete."

She noted faint amusement dancing in his eyes when she said his name, but it was gone in a flash. They retrieved the picnic from the mess tent and were nearly to the edge of the camp when Selwyn stopped them.

"Excuse me. I did not mean to interrupt, but if I may speak with you, sir?"

"Of course. Excuse me, Fae."

He and the Faun walked several feet away, speaking in soft tones. Pete gave a sharp cry, but was hushed as Selwyn continued his report. A few minutes later he came back to her side, looking dismayed and rather worried, but in a second the emotions were replaced with an apologetic smile.

"I'm horribly sorry, Fae. Something has . . . happened and I must go with a group to investigate immediately. I'm afraid I will not be able to return before morning. Selwyn has agreed to accompany you back to the Cair." He smiled softly. "I hope you find all that you wish and more. May the Lion go with you."

"And with you…" A horn sounded in the distance and Pete started and turned to the Faun.

"Be careful in the forest, Selwyn. Keep her safe." He turned back to Fae and impulsively squeezed her hand in both of his. "Until we meet again," and he was gone.

Fae watched his back until the crowd completely swallowed him up. She stared at the place he vanished for several minutes until Selwyn spoke from her side.

"Milady, I realize that I'm not nearly as handsome, nor am I as charming. But you may find my conversation interesting. May I sup with you?"

"It would bless my heart if you did. I have picnic for two here. Does that suit you?"

"Very much so and I know of a perfect spot. Come."

He offered her his arm and with final glance behind her she took it and they made their way to a delightful spot beneath a tree and next to the river. Valda joined them soon after and when the food was gone they talked deep into the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Valda woke Fae up well before the sun had risen. The camp was already awake and busy. It didn't take her long to pack her things up before she and Valda walked to the mess tent for breakfast. Creatures she'd met the night before called out to them and Selwyn joined them on the way. She was introduced to several more members of the company who all greeted her warmly, just as if she were one of them. She and Selwyn ate bread and berries for breakfast and Valda ate a piece of raw meat. Fae was surprised to see how delicately the big cat ate, but she decided not to speak of it.

Selwyn had packed satchels for them and after they finished eating they retrieved them and set off. Valda walked with them to the edge of the camp. When it came time for them to part she nuzzled Fae, a tiger version of a hug.

"Take care, lady. May the Lion bless you and keep you."

Fae laid her hand between the tigress' ears and resisted the urge to throw her arms about her furry neck.

"And you Lady Valda. I will miss your company."

The tigress smiled but said no more. Fae returned the smile and joined Selwyn. They started out heading east, following the river on a barely visible path. They were mostly quiet for the first hour or so of their journey. When they were a considerable distance from the camp and the sun was up and shining brightly, Selwyn pulled a forked flute from his pack and began to play a merry melody, frolicking in circles around Fae as she walked. Birds noticed and sang along with him. She stared in amazement as birds flew with them, perching on branches and circling Selwyn head.

He extended one hand to her and when she took it, spun her. She was so caught off guard that she squeaked and stiffened, coming to a complete halt. Selwyn didn't seem to notice and spun her again, leaping into the air as he did so. Spin, leap, spin, spin, dip, leap, twirl, he continued the rapid sequence until she got the hang of it, playing with one hand all the while. Birds flew about them in circles, singing as blithely as his flute. He let go of her hand and they spun around each other, leaping and twirling and kicking until they both collapsed on the soft moss of the forest floor.

"Lady, you have Dryad blood in you," he gasped from beside her.

"No, I don't," she said with a frown.

"I believe you do."

"I'm from Archenland, sir. Trees don't talk there."

"And the maidens there don't have eyes as green as yours either. It's a color that comes from the trees. It may be very diluted, but you have Dryad blood running through your veins."

"I don't thinks so."

"That was one of the dances that the Fauns and the Dryads dance all night in the summer. You picked up on the steps quickly. All Dryads are dancers."

A small blue bird lit on her forehead, making her laugh and dispelling her defensiveness. "Are they?"

Selwyn stood up and took her outstretched hands to pull her up. The bird flew off indignantly, but lighted on her shoulder once she was standing.

"Yes, they are all marvelous dancers. Once we're in Cair Paravel I'll take you a dance that lasts from dusk till dawn. You'll love it."

"It sounds wonder--"

A band of men with drawn swords stopped her mid-sentence. They came from all sides, surrounding the two in seconds. The bird on her shoulder took flight as she reached (involuntarily, and almost unbeknownst to her) for her sword. But too late, a sword was at her throat, its bearer a dark man roughly the size of a Centaur and twice as thick. Unlike her encounter with the Dwarves, these men frightened her and she couldn't keep her hands from shaking.

"What do you want? We are but humble travelers. We have nothing of worth." Selwyn said over his drawn sword, eyeing the attackers warily. They said nothing. "What do you want from us?"

The huge man growled in another language and two men tied their wrists together none too gently. They took the swords from both, handing them off to a much smaller, younger man standing next to the leader. Another rope was tied to Fae's bound hands and given to the leader. He glared down at her:

"I am Gamba Kalb and listen to me now. You will do as I say, you will follow me, and you will remain silent. Nothing was said of the condition I am to deliver you in."

Fae looked at him steadily, refusing to become unnerved under his cruel gaze. He glared at her and raised his hand. A grunt from the young man stopped his hand in mid-air and he spun around, heading north. Fae caught Selwyn's helpless look before she was jerked forward. Behind her were the other two men, then Selwyn, and the young man. The fear in her stomach clenched itself into and even tighter knot.

"_Oh Aslan, come to our aid..."_

They spent the rest of the day walking at a vigorous pace, heading up and away from the river. Gamba Kalb seemed to choose the most treacherous passages and he didn't stop long enough for rest or food. Fae noticed that he seemed nervous, and he and his men kept a hand on their swords at all times. They rarely spoke, and when they did, their words were barely above a whisper. Kalb's eyes were constantly roaming the wood around them and he would make the group pause at the slightest sound the forest made. They covered many miles and with every step Fae's heart grew heavier.

The only thing that gave her hope was that on occasion she would catch a glimpse of the blue plumage of the little bird who'd danced with them what seemed so long ago. She had thought it her imagination the first few times, but now she was quite sure. They were being followed. She hoped the little thing had sense enough to fly for help.

They finally stopped long after it was dark. Fae and Selwyn sat close to each other and while one of the men dug around in their packs. After a bit they were given a portion of food and the rest of their food was split amongst their captors, who appeared not to have eaten anything so fine in days. After they were done eating the two prisoners were tied together to a tree and three of the four men lay down. Fae correctly guessed that the fourth was to stand guard. She made herself as comfortable as one can when one is tied to a tree and went to sleep.

A savage cry woke her in the middle of the night. There were the sounds of swords being drawn and more cries filled the night. She strained her eyes in the darkness and saw dark figures attacking their captors.

"Narnia?" she whispered to Selwyn, sure that he was awake too.

"Nay. Too many men. They've been following us since this afternoon. Five, I believe." The clang of steel on steel nearly drowned out his words.

"Well, they're not going to get us." Fae said resolutely over the battle cries of those surrounding them. "Can you reach my foot?"

"Aye." A second later his deft fingers were around the bridge of her foot and he squeezed it a might harder than he'd meant to when two fighting men came too close to their tree for his comfort.

"Good." She waited until the two men had moved away from their tree before she extended her leg as far as she could. "There's a knife next to my ankle. Can you feel it?"

It took him a few minutes. A flash of pain accompanied by the ringing of steel made her think she'd been stabbed by a stray sword. Then she realized that the pain was actually from her knife being twisted the wrong way. Moments later he'd removed it and was sawing at the rope. The fighting before them was still fierce and the air was laden with yells and the sounds of swordplay.

In the midst of the fighting a huge figure approached them. Selwyn yelled, but his cry was cut short as his head was slammed against the tree trunk. He slumped over and Fae screamed in horror. A blade flashed in the moonlight and came down between the two prisoners, severing the rope that held them. Gamba Kalb's wicked eyes shone in the moonlight and before she knew what was happening Fae was thrown over his shoulder and they were disappearing into the forest.

She tried to fight him, but to no avail. Her legs were firmly pinned under one of his massive arms and he didn't seem to notice her flying fists and elbows. She didn't scream; she knew better than to invite the attackers to follow her. Even if she had, she doubted that anyone could have caught up with him. Gamba Kalb was running at a pace she wouldn't have believed possible had she not been experiencing it first hand, it was all she could do just to hang on. Minutes later they were joined by the youngest of her captors. He grunted a few words and the big man's pace became even faster.

She didn't know how long they'd been running when they finally stopped. As roughly as she'd been hoisted up she was thrown to the ground. She lay there, wanting to run, but her body not cooperating. Above her the two men spoke rapidly and to her surprise, loudly. She didn't pay attention to the argument, only to the fact that they were completely ignored her.

She took her chance. Ignoring the pain in her legs and the blood rushing in her head she rolled over, pushed herself up, and began to run. That had been the idea anyway. In reality she managed to barely pushed herself up before all the blood rushed from her head and she fell to the ground, unconscious.

When she woke the sun had long been up and she was slung around Kalb's shoulders like a big string of sausages. One of her legs had his arm wrapped around it and the hand on that arm gripped her wrist. Her immediate response was to struggle, which resulted in her being unceremoniously dropped. The young man stopped beside her, resting a firm hand on her shoulder and spoke softly.

"Uncle, she needs to rest."

The huge man grunted intelligibly and stopped.

"Drink."

The young man thrust a small skin of water at her and she accepted it with trembling fingers. After drinking her fill she handed it back and tried to rub the feeling back into her arms and legs. The young man drank after her, but Gamba Kalb refused. The smaller man shrugged and handed her a small hunk of the Narnian bread they'd taken from her pack and a handful of long, slender leaves.

"Mint?" she spoke without realizing it.

"It's edible. You'll feel better after dining on it," he said without looking at her.

She didn't know whether it was the Narnian bread or the herb, but after eating both she was greatly refreshed and felt much stronger. She accepted some more water and shivered as she handed the skin back. His brow furrowed.

"You're cold."

Before she could deny it he'd taken his cloak from his back and tossed it to her. The leader made a disgusted noise and turned from him. The young man's features hardened, but his voice was soft and submissive when he spoke:

"Uncle, there is no reason she ought to suffer."

The big man grunted and made no move. She sensed that the two were not exactly in agreement concerning her and the situation they'd put her in. She did her best to take advantage of such a situation, hoping to receive his good graces.

"May I know your name?" she asked, barely audibly.

The youth froze, glancing at Kalb before speaking: "Why?"

His curiosity gave her a bit of courage and she spoke a little louder, trying to lace her voice with as much sweetness as she could muster.

"I would like to thank my benefactor by his name."

His face was an odd mixture of distress, confusion, and wonder. He turned from her abruptly and said no more. After she'd clasped her cloak around her neck, she stood, feet and sore legs protesting, and offered clasped hands to him. He looked shocked, but he tied the rope around them, far more gently than he had before.

"Kiran."

It took a moment for her to understand. She did her best to smile, hoping it wasn't as wobbly as it felt and nodded deeply, "Thank you, Kiran."

"Quickly. We have far to go yet."

OoOoOo

The birds were suddenly noisy, as if they knew something was about to happen, and it was making her captors uneasy. The two had been arguing in voices she couldn't hear, but could detect the tension from. She recognized their anxiety: and she wondered if it was how a deer felt as it evaded the hunter. Their anxiety became hers, for she knew she was the creature whose head was wanted. The fact that Selwyn had been left behind was proof enough and her head was spinning with possible reasons, none of which made any sense.

Gamba Kalb finally dropped the argument with Kiran and picked the pace up again. Fae did her best to keep up, but it was a mighty struggle that ended with her in a pile on the forest floor. The big man wasted no time in dealing with her. His eyes were fierce, but he said no words. In an instant she founded herself thrown unceremoniously around his shoulders again. She was too tired to fight, even to do much more than wing a short prayer.

_Aslan, help…_

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a flash of blue, but she was distracted by a sudden shadow falling over them. She was dropped and her captors drew their swords. When she saw the enemy she promptly fainted.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Fae rolled over, drifting slowly from sleep into awareness. It was warm in her bed and she didn't want to get up. As she slowly emerged from her sleeping state, she realized that she wasn't home and that this wasn't her warm bed in the loft. She also realized, that since she was in fact, in a bed, she wasn't sleeping on the forest floor and her hands weren't tied anymore either. This thought jerked her rudely from the banks of sleep where she still dwelt and into full wakefulness. She was in a little white room with incredibly high ceilings and the sun was shining cheerfully from windows high in the walls, which meant she wasn't in the deep woods anymore. Far off she heard a sound that was just beyond the reach of her memory, but she couldn't figure out where they came from or what the noise was. She stood up to find that she was in a huge tunic that hung off one shoulder but only reached to her knees. It was made of a strange fabric that she didn't recognize and something's black hair seemed to be woven into it.

There was a doorway with a curtain of all colors of blue over it and voices carried to her from past the curtain. One was lilting, but low and the other was just as low, but solemn. She peeked out from behind the curtain and a large, but cozy room with fine, large furniture met her gaze. Sunlight poured in through several huge windows high in the walls as were the windows in the room she'd just come from. There was a fireplace on one wall, under which a small fire burned with a pot over it, and she thought she smelled oatmeal. There was door in the other wall and that's where she heard the voices coming from.

She crept forward and slowly stuck her head around the edge of the doorframe. It took her a moment to retain all that her eyes saw. The room she'd poked her head into was huge, and completely made of white stone, all of it solid, not in blocks as if someone had built it. It had some furniture, but not much, and that was larger and finer than that of the room she'd just come from. There were windows very high up that let light infiltrate most of the room, illuminating the folk that dwelt there. She screamed.

"Oh, you're up! Good. We were terribly afraid that you simply would not wake up, thin as you are and exhausted to boot. You little blue friend, who's sleeping now, bless him, told us all about your ordeal and we thought for sure you'd just be sick with fright . . ."

Now, let's not think that Fae was faint hearted to scream at the sight of people, because the speaker wasn't a person. It was a dragon, actually, the same dragon who'd she'd fainted at the sight of earlier. It looked exactly like the ones she'd read about in stories and considering how horrid dragons are in stories, all fearsome and man eating and the such, so she had reason to scream. She'd never heard of the good she-dragon that lived in Narnia, the Talking one that was kind to humans and the friend of kings.

"…My name's Anatolei, by the way, the bump you see over there is Lysander. He's the quiet one out of the two of us."

Fae gasped when she saw him (she hadn't seen him before, considering that she'd fainted). He was the solemn voice she'd heard, she knew _that _just by looking at him. He was enormous, even for a Centaur; his coat was black as midnight, his long black hair was streaked with silver and his kind eyes were pools of darkness in darkness. His eyes told her he knew more and had seen more than anyone she'd ever known, even the healer in the village who was bent over double and as wizened as an ancient oak. She felt small and wished for Rhoswen. He bowed deeply to her:

"It is an honor to meet thee, fair princess, oh deliverer of the Isle."

"I beg your pardon? I'm sorry. You must have me confused with someone else."

He raised his eyebrows and blinked once. When he spoke his voice was soft, not unlike Aslan being reproachful. "You think I, who speaks to stars, am mistaken?"

"I'm terribly sorry sir, but you must be. I'm…I'm just a little forest maid. I mean, I--I was raised in an abandoned cottage in the woods…I--I…"

The dragon broke in before she or Lysander could say anything more. "Leave the poor child alone. She's probably starved out of her mind, going for so long without nourishment. Go get the food, Lysander. That's a good chap. You'll have to forgive him; he gets a little edgy every now and again."

Lysander disappeared through the door that Fae had come in through and a moment later brought back the pot that had been over the fire. Fae pulled up the tunic so it wouldn't hang from her shoulder.

"It's sweet mash, you short-lives will think it tastes like oatmeal."

He called them short-lives because Centaurs (and dragons too) live dreadfully long lives, but, of course, they're not dreadful. That is, not unless one happened to have been born during the one-hundred year reign of the White Witch, which I'm sure you've heard all about that in an other story. Humans have very short lives in comparison and the nickname "short-lives" is often heard when a centaur and a human are together is about.

As soon as she was given a bowl of the hot mash, which tasted like oatmeal just as much as it smelled of oatmeal. Fae completely forgot her fear and confusion and was consumed by hunger. A good deal of the time when one hasn't eaten much for a few days half of one's fright is due to lack of energy and sustenance, so she felt much better when she'd finished eating.

The Centaur lapsed into silence and the dragon rambled on, but neither of them listened. Lysander seemed fascinated by her and it made her feel terribly uncomfortable, so she asked Anatolei where her clothes were so that she might take a walk. The dragon looked incredulous.

"Why, I burned them. They were absolute rags and filthier than a Black Dwarf."

At Fae's incredulous look, Anatolei laughed.

"It wasn't a hard task, dear." a puff of flame burst from her mouth to prove it.

"Um, er . . .Yes, I can see that. But what am I to wear then? Surely not this . . .?" She pulled at the tunic, trying, uselessly, to make it stay over her shoulder.

"Oh, I suppose you can't . . .Oh . . .What to do?"

"There's a wardrobe in that room," said Lysander, gesturing to another curtained doorway. "You'll find whatever you need in there. Then you can give me my tunic back." For the first time, he smiled.

"Thank you very much." She rushed off to do as he said.

In the wardrobe she found all kinds of lovely, but simple dresses, all made of exquisite material. She picked out one with a full skirt and long sleeves that looked rather warm. She tried it on and was amazed that it fit her, almost as though it'd been made for her. She also found a cloak that was dark blue and swept the ground when she walked. There were even shoes that fit her perfectly. She folded up the tunic, realizing that the hairs in it were the coarse mane of a centaur. She now understood why it had been so huge on her and was glad to be able to give it back. Fae left the room and went to the Centaur.

"Thank you for the use of your tunic, it was most kind." He nodded at her and smiled again. "I'll be back soon," she told the dragon.

"The entrance is right down that passage, there is no door, just the outside," instructed Anatolei. "Be careful. I'll send the little bird after you when dinner's ready."

Fae paused just before leaving the main room and turned back to the two.

"Where are my captors, Gamba Kalb and Kiran?"

Anatolei looked just the tiniest bit delighted. "Oh, _those_ two. They are in a pit." At Fae's shocked expression, she became very serious. "Don't worry, dear, they're alive. The only thing that's hurt is their pride. They shall be turned over to Cair Paravel for judgment soon."

Fae liked her answer well enough and managed to make it outside by following the light. Outside the sun was beaming happily, which was a comfort to her. She gasped at her surroundings. To her left there were the woods, the sun making their interior shine with a greenish light. To her right was the sea, crashing against a beach not two hundred yards from her. The water was much louder outside than it'd been inside the cavern. As she looked up, she saw that the cavern itself extended right out into the sea in the form of a white cliff.

She looked at the sea again, letting the sound of it come back to her. It'd been so long since she'd heard it. She barely remembered. But it pulled at her mind, her memory. It beckoned her sweetly, calling her back to a time that she hardly knew. She closed her eyes and tried to remember. A wind from the sea caressed her face and lifted her hair from her shoulders. It was soft and warm and so delicious she felt her heart would burst with how wonderful it was. When she opened her eyes Aslan was standing before her. She gave a startled cry and then ran to him, drawn by eyes that were as soft as a kitten and dangerous as a bolt of lighting all at once. He led her out to the sea, walking so the waves crashed onto the sand and into his feet. She took off her shoes, setting them out of the sea's reach, but the hem of her dress was soaked through in minutes.

For a while they walked in silence, Fae on pins and needles the entire time. She was wondering what he had come for and why he had waited so long and if he could possibly dispel the confusion that was ravaging her brain.

"I'm going to tell you a story," he interrupted her thoughts and startling her so much that she jumped.

"There once was a well-respected man here in Narnia who had some of the purest first blood of the land in him."

"The first blood?"

"The first king and queen of Narnia. That is, he came from the line of King Frank and Queen Helen."

"Oh."

"He was the Duke of Lantern Waste and when the White Witch attacked and conquered Narnia and took it as her land to rule for one hundred years, she killed him and banished his family from the land, never to be seen again. They were given a boat, not a ship mind you, but a boat and sent to sea. She hoped it would kill them, but I was with them," here he growled softly, like a chuckle. "They floated in the ocean until a Terebinthian, you've heard of Terebinthia? Where the Terebinth trees grow?" She nodded, vaguely remembering Rhoswen talking about how fine Terebinth wood was for furniture. "I thought so. They were found by a Terebinthian ship and when the Terebinthians found that they were nearly royalty from Narnia they treated them so. The man's son was made a governor of a great city, and under him it prospered and became great amongst the Isles. His children grew up in the palace and his son was a few years older than the beautiful Princess Riana Zuleika. Eventually, they fell in love and when they became old enough they married and when the Queen passed on, her eldest daughter became Queen Riana Zuleika."

"What about her husband?"

"He was the old queen's consort. In Terebinthia, the queens hold the power. It is a tradition that is nearly as old as time itself. Anyway, they were the most just and kind rulers Terebinthia had ever seen, but their rule didn't last long."

"What happened?"

"There was an attack. The Lone Islands are governed by a very greedy and conniving

man and he hated Terebinthians with a passion and couldn't stand to see that they were more powerful or rich than he. He got the armies of the Lone Islands together and hired some skilled warriors from Calormen and attacked Terebinthia all at once one terrible night. The entire royal family, save Zuleika husband's younger sister was killed. She escaped with the most precious treasure that Terebinthia possessed. A tiny child named Fariishta Riana, princess and heir to the crown. I believe you know the royal sister, a Rhoswen Nuala, quite well."

"Rhoswen?!" Fae stopped in her tracks, incredulous. "She saved the princess? The princess . . . Me?! A _princess_ . . . No. It can't be. Aslan, it's too much to believe!"

"It is a lot to comprehend in a matter of minutes, but I believe Lysander said something about it earlier, did he not?"

"But . . ."

"Come here child and place your hand on my mane."

They had stopped at a lagoon that was so still that it reflected the wonderful blue of the late summer sky. She did as he said, following him right into the lagoon. Ripples spread out from them, breaking up the beautiful blue of the reflected sky. Aslan stopped and she did as well. For the longest time they didn't move. The ripples faded away and once again the sky appeared in the lagoon.

"Watch the water."

The Lion's voice was soft as butterfly wings. He stooped so his muzzle nearly touched the water and blew a soft breath. The water rippled and then stilled almost instantly smoothed, clear as glass, but no longer a mirror. Before her was a lovely palace that had balconies reaching out to the sea and tall towers that reached out to grab the sky. The picture sharpened and one balcony appeared. A beautiful woman, holding a baby and a man with Fae's own green eyes was standing on the balcony, the man leaning against the marble railing, beaming out at the sea.

The picture changed again. It was dark now and there were little black things all over the palace, like roaches crawling on a cake. As the picture sharpened Fae saw the roaches were actually men in dark chain-mail climbing up the palace walls. A knot twisted in her stomach. The picture changed again and they were inside the palace. She saw the terrified face of her mother preparing to flee and the protective face of her father as he reached for a weapon, but the picture changed before Fae could see anymore. There was Rhoswen, as old as Fae was now, but in the loveliest of dresses, a satchel on her back and a sheathed sword under her arm, sprinting down hallways and ducking into corners as armed men rushed past. Into a room she ran, tears falling down her cheeks as she grabbed a tiny baby and wrapped it in several blankets. Then the young Rhoswen dashed out a pair of doors, followed by a blinding flash of light while she whispered to the little bundle she held.

"What on earth was that?" Fae asked.

"Part of the Deep Magic that protects the palace. Watch."

The pictures kept going. Suddenly all those attacking the palace could not get in. The fire they threw at it's walls went out. The men turned on the people outside the palace. The picture changed: There were people bound with ropes and chains, loaded onto a ship. Men in fields, working beneath a whip. Once proud women now served others. Children were torn away from their mothers and brothers from brothers. The city fell into disrepair, the bright colors faded and darkness seemed to cover the island.

"That's horrible, Aslan, but it doesn't mean that I'm the baby that Rhoswen saved."

He growled a growl so low and loud that it made the water tremble. The pictures changed again. There was Rhoswen, running across a sandy beach, tears streaming down her cheeks. Rhoswen waving a jeweled necklace in front of a fisherman's face. Rhoswen cuddling the baby as she watched her homeland grow smaller. Fae saw Rhoswen's journey across the Calormen desert, her trek across Archenland to a little cabin Fae knew only too well.

"No, Aslan. No! It's not . . . I'm not . . . It can't be!"

"But it is. What will you do?"

"I-I don't want it. I can't do it. I'm not a princess. I don't look like a princess or act like a princess or talk like a princess or anything! It won't work. No one would ever believe me. And besides-"

The rumblings of growl silenced her.

"Your people are suffering, child. I can save them without you, but things would go much better if you were willing to give up your doubts and accept the truth."

"But-but . . . Aslan!" Tears filled her eyes. "I don't know if I can do it."

"I will be at your side no matter what. Do not be afraid. Are you willing to accept who you are?"

Fae nodded and the tears flowed freely down her cheeks. Aslan gave her a gentle lion's kiss on the forehead and when the tears left and her eyes were unclouded, he was gone.

Fae stood in the lagoon, the water lapping around her thighs, long after Aslan had left her. When she finally came to herself and got out of the water the sun was high in the sky. She set out walking even further away from the cavern, not noticing the slap of her wet skirts against her legs. The sun and a cold wind soon dried them, but she kept walking.

Finally she found a large, smooth rock that jutted out into the ocean and clambered onto it and sat there for a long time, her heart and mind too full to do anything but sit. The sea seemed to calm her, to speak to her. She thought of her parents, of her people. She thought of the position they must be in. Her heart broke for them, for their oppression. She imagined their lives as slaves in captivity to the Lone Islanders. She couldn't stand it, so she got up and started walking again, this time back in the direction she came from. She passed the lagoon, it was still again and the Narnian sunset gleamed at her. Just after that she met the little bluebird.

"Hello!" It chirped, lighting on her uplifted palm. "Where have you been? I've been looking all over! Are you alright? I'm Marmion, by the way. Mama calls me Marmie and you can too. I've been following you for such a long time . . . I told Mama before I left though, and she said it was alright, just so long as I came back before winter. And I will. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Fae listened in amazement to the tiny bird, stunned that such a small creature could have so many words. She was equally amazed that it had managed to keep silent for the past two days, since it had been following her quite closely. Marmie perched on her shoulder and kept talking, his high pitched voice making her ears ring. She was quite grateful when they reached the cave.

There was a warm glow from a fire inside the main room and the smell of something delicious reminded her that she hadn't eaten anything for hours. The dragon ushered her to a pile of cushions and Lysander brought her a bowl of stew from the fire. She then related all that she'd seen and heard to the three and many tears were shed, mostly by the dragon. After she'd finished, she was yawning profusely and Anatolei sent her to bed.

Fae woke early, before the sun, but not before the Centaur. She begged him to tell her everything he knew of Terebinthia (which was wasn't much) and royal protocol (which was even less). But Lysander knew all kinds of other important things such as how to create an irrefutable argument and how to find the right person to watch if she was in pinch and didn't know what to do and he shared these things with her freely.

"Why does the High King not do anything? Surely he knows of what his subjects on the Lone Islands are doing."

Lysander explained to Fae that the High King of Narnia had only been king for about five years and the most of those years were devoted to putting the country back in order. And when Fae said that this whole business with the Lone Islanders was rather out of order he reminded her of the White Witch and her terrible reign. He told he that now that almost everything had been made right in Narnia itself (distinguishing the good people from the bad, figuring out the Dwarves that needed to be banished and sending the Giants back to the Wild Lands of the North, etc.), that the Four could were barely beginning to look to matters in countries adjacent to Narnia, but less matters pertaining to the islands. Lysander said that it was his guess that Terebinthia had sent a diplomat when the Four were crowned and for all they knew, everything in Terebinthia was at rights.

All of this took a good deal of time. Fae found herself quite lost as to some matters of royal protocol, such as why a person needed six forks to eat a meal instead of just one and Lysander endured her frustration with an admirable patience. But regarding the matter of the forks: he eventually told her to use them all or else she would be thought a simpleton and a fool and would she please just accept it and move on?

OoOoOo

Two days later, Princess Fariishta Riana (though she felt far more like a country bumpkin than she ever had before) stared at the castle Cair Paravel in trepidation. She was dressed in an exquisitely simple purple gown shot through with gold threads. A thin gold band studded with tiny emeralds and amethysts encircled her head, and her hair flowed freely down her back. Her sword was around her waist, attached to a black leather belt, and its pommel was shining brightly after the cleaning Lysander had given it. She put on deep green cloak of the finest material before she was assisted onto Lysander's back. She clung to his waist as they started off. The day was bleak and dark; a storm was rolling in from the sea.

After an eternity, they reached the gates of Cair Paravel. Lysander shouted out who they were and what their business there was before the gates were opened. Here Anatolei, a prisoner under each arm took leave of them and the Centaur and the girl went in alone. The grand courtyard fell completely silent when Lysander walked in. No one had ever seen anyone riding a centaur, it was unheard of. And with a lady atop him too! She had her hood on, so none could see her face, but her back was straight and her head erect. Lysander paid no mind to the stares and carried her to the huge doors that lead to the court of the Four.

Lysander had gone ahead the day before and requested an appearance on her behalf. Now she slipped from his back and handed her cloak to a rather startled looking guard. From within the she heard the chamberlain announce her name and the great doors opened. She gave Lysander a final glance and at his smile, proceeded slowly.

She focused on a carving of a golden lion positioned just above the four thrones as she walked forward. She heard murmurings from the crowd and gripped her skirts to keep her hands from shaking. She bowed deeply, nodding to each of the Four before rising. At least, that was her intention. The fourth nod, which was supposed to be held just a second longer out of respect for the High King was cut short by a gasp and her jaw dropped.

"Pete?"


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter 5**_

King Edmund burst out laughing and the two Queens were struggling to hide their smiles. The court burst into a tittering ruckus at the idea of their High King being called something as absurd as "Pete" while Fae tried to regain her self control. The High King Peter and Pete, knight of Cair Paravel . . . One in the same. Her head reeled and settled on one fact: he had lied to her. Purposefully concealed the truth. Why in heaven's name would he do such a thing? To keep himself safe, that was given. But he'd had an entire platoon of soldiers and guards around to keep him safe. Not that'd she posed much of threat. Why then? What could that have possibly accomplished? She stood stock still, mulling these possibilities while around her the hubbub was growing louder. To make things worse, the wind had begun to blow and rain was falling, only adding to the noise.

"Silence!" The chamberlain called. It had not effect whatsoever. "Silence!" Still not the smallest reduction in noise. "Si-"

"QUIET!" Thunder clapped to accentuate his command and tongues stopped in mid-wag as the High King sat back down.

"What is your business here, Princess?" he voice was controlled and even and if it weren't for his flashing eyes she would have believed he had completely forgotten about their meeting in the forest. She forced to her mind the speech Lysander had helped her prepare. She had spent the entire time they spent traversing to the Cair practicing it, but now the words seemed all wrong. Still, it was better than speaking her mind.

"My request is for the Emperor of the Lone Islands, for it is by his power alone that it can be granted."

The King Edmund's smile grew; he was obviously deriving great amusement from seeing his brother so uncomfortable. He knew the source of his brother's distress. He had heard all about the maiden his brother had met in the forest and about his concealed identity and when she appeared before them as a princess, he, unlike Peter, could actually see the incredible irony of the situation.

"And your request is what?"

"That you prove that you are the Emperor of the Lone Islanders and heal the grave wounds they have inflicted on Terebinthia."

"I beg your pardon?"

"They have invaded my country, Sire." Her voice was edging on testy and she didn't really care. "Your governor killed the rightful Queen and gave himself the title of Emperor of Terebinthia. They have made my people slaves, sold them to Calormen and used them to their own advantage on the Lone Islands. It is your duty as their ruler to set things right."

The entire throne room was completely silent for a few moments, and then it broke into a great clamor of chattering. Queen Lucy, who was just short of fourteen at the time, looked rather horrified. Queen Susan gave the young woman before them a compassionate look and smiled at her encouragingly. King Edmund was leaning forward, his enjoyment forgotten as he regarded the situation. The High King was even more unreadable than before and Fae begrudged him his emotionless face. He finally rose and announced:

"We will speak with the Princess alone." He swept quite grandly out of the room, his siblings in tow. Fae watched them leave a little bewilderedly until the Queen Lucy turned and saw she wasn't following. The girl ran back and took Fae's hand, pulling her along eagerly, "It's alright. Don't look so frightened. It's not like we're going to eat you."

The High King led them to a room that seemed to be a study. There was a couch with thick and fluffy cushions and several overstuffed armchairs and a fire was burning blithely in the fireplace with a kettle over it.

"Would anyone like some tea?" asked Queen Susan a bit too cheerily as she reached for some tea things that were set up on a little cart by the fire. King Edmund took a cup and so did King Peter, which was a mistake on his part, for his hands were shaking and he spilt the tea all over the saucer before he set it down. We should note here that he didn't pick it up his teacup again during the meeting.

"Please, sit down," said Queen Susan before she sat next to King Peter on the couch. King Edmund sat in a large armchair and Queen Lucy sat on the floor, leaning again the arm of the couch. Fae (she felt dreadfully like her old self now that there was no one who believed in her present) sat down on the remaining armchair, facing the four monarchs.

"Princess Fariishta, would you please explain the situation in a little more detail? I'm afraid you caught us all a bit...off-guard when you brought your request to us," said King Edmund, his eyes gleaming with faint amusement.

"As I said, Terebinthia was taken over by the Governor of the Lone Islands," she blanched when she realized she hadn't the foggiest idea who this man was. "Um, I'm afraid I don't know his name. But anyway, he destroyed the capitol city and he bathed the streets in blood." She saw slightly skeptical faces, so she clarified, "He killed everyone in his path. Well, he actually didn't do the killing," She hurried to explain herself, "That is, he hired forces from Calormen he enslaved the Terebinthians." She wasn't making the point she wanted to and her audience was looking a but confused. "He killed the royal family! Well, except for me . . . Obviously." She sighed, frustrated that she'd botched it so. "Anyway, the governor's under your jurisdiction. If you went there and put him in his place and reclaimed the Lone Islands for Narnia, it could be made right."

"How did you escape?" This question was posed by Queen Lucy who wore an inquisitive look.

"I was saved by my Aunt, the Lady Rhoswen Nuala, sister of the King. She kept me safe, hid me away, by the orders of Aslan—"

"Aslan?" the query came from all four at once.

"Yes, Aslan. He told her that I was to become the deliverer of my people. She hid me in the woods at the Archenland and Narnian border and raised me as a common girl until Aslan appeared to her again and told her it was time for me to reclaim the throne. He told her to send me to Cair Paravel where the High King would help me." She looked pointedly at King Peter, "He said I was to stay here until he came for me."

"When did you learn of your lineage?" King Peter asked, accusation that only Fae understood hanging around the edges of his question.

"I knew nothing until Aslan himself came me and told me who I was and showed from whence I came, not two days ago. When we met in the forest, I was my whole self before you, High King Peter. I was the only person I knew myself to be. I put up no pretenses and told you no lies."

"Thank you, Princess. That is quite enough." His tone finally revealed his emotion, but he regained his control quickly and completely ignored her. "Girls, see to it that she has a room for the duration of her stay. Ed, run it by the Council, see what they have to say."

"Come." Queen Susan took her arm and Queen Lucy took her by the hand as they all but pushed and pulled her from the room. Once they were outside the two spoke a bit more freely.

"Princess, may I ask how you know my brother?" Queen Susan queried.

"What in the world did you _do_?" Lucy asked, her eyes wide. "I haven't seen him that upset since…It must have been that time with the rabbits."

Fae relayed their encounter in the forest a quickly as possible, doing her best not to slander the High King in her frustration. The girls were far more understanding afterwards and a bit vocal with their thoughts on the matter.

"Well, no wonder he was upset! Caught in his . . . charade, shall we say. And it was the exact same charade you appear to have played with him, but you with a perfectly acceptable excuse . . .Goodness." Queen Lucy giggled a little. "Edmund must have known about it though, otherwise he wouldn't have gotten such a kick out of you showing up."

"I bet Peter doesn't find it ironic," Queen Susan said, but couldn't stop a smile from dancing across her lovely features. "I'll warrant he'll soon come apologizing to you. He's far too noble and the guilt will positively eat him alive. Come Princess Fariishta, your room is right over here."

"Thank you very much, Queen Susan. You have been so kind."

"May we make a pact, Princess?"

"I am in your debt, name it."

"I will call you by your name if you call me by mine. We can forget all the nonsense with titles."

"Me too." Queen Lucy piped in. Fae smiled for the first time that day.

"I would love it. I feel so silly and formal when someone calls me Princess Fariishta. It's not me, I assure you. I've been raised on the name Fae. Would you call me that?"

The two agreed and after being told when and where dinner was to be served, they left and she entered her room and gasped. It was bigger than her entire cottage and it was the most beautiful room she'd ever seen, but she couldn't bring herself to love it. She instead looked for the bell Susan had told her of, the one that would summon a servant for her if she needed "anything at all."

She finally found the bell (it was well disguised and looked nothing like a bell) and in minutes there was a gentle rap on the door. She opened it to a lovely Dryad, a little younger than herself and very shy looking.

"I am Leala, of the Kraneia, that is, I'm a Dogwood. I am…oh dear, what was I supposed to say? I'm new, I'm sorry. Um . . . Ah! I am at your disposal, um, for the duration of your stay. How may I be of service, Princess?" She smiled brightly at the end of her speech and Fae couldn't help but smile back. The girl's voice was soft as the breeze running over aspen leaves and her twisting hands told Fae she was _very_ new indeed.

"Well, there's someone I'd like to speak to in the dungeons, if you would be so kind as to lead me there."

"Milady! Why?"

"My friend Anatolei just delivered two men who attacked me there. I want to know why they did such a thing. Therefore I need to go to the dungeon."

The Dryad's wide eyes widened more than Fae thought was possible and her mouth dropped open. "Oh, Lion's mane! Princess I can't possibly do that. It's dangerous down there! And perfectly unpleasant too. I just couldn't."

"Well, I'll have to find it myself then," Fae shrugged.

"Oh no! You can't go all _alone_! That's not at all safe, or even nice." She squared her shoulders. "No, Princess, I'll just have to go with you. It's the only way."

Fae tried her very hardest not to laugh as the girl drew a very deep breath, turned resolutely on her heel, and marched down the hall. Fae followed closely and after going down several flights of stairs and through richly carpeted halls and past innumerable rooms, Leala stopped in front of a thick, mahogany door.

"Are you sure you want to do this, milady?" she asked, looking distressed. Fae nodded resolutely. "I was afraid you'd say that."

"Lead on."

The girl drew herself up as tall as she possibly could and gallantly threw the doors open. It wasn't nearly as bad as Fae had thought it would be. There were windows that, although heavily barred, let in fresh air and light and every cell had a bed with blankets and a pillow on it. It didn't even smell musty and dank as the dungeons she'd read about all did. A Minotaur at a desk near the door stopped them and introduced himself as Herve. Fae thought the little Dryad might just faint at his booming voice.

"What is your business here?"

"I am Princess Fariishta Riana of Terebinthia. I believe Anatolei the dragon brought two men here not too long ago. They kidnapped me and held me captive for two days. I would like to speak with the younger of the two."

"As to what purpose?"

"I just want to know who hired them."

"You think they were following someone's orders?"

"I know they were. They told me." She quickly relayed her capture to him while he took brief notes. By the time she'd finished both were more than a little annoyed with the young Dryad and her horrified gasps.

"We'll have to change the report. Does match up with Selwyn's . . ." he mumbled to himself. "Well, we can call off the search for you, Princess. I'll have to get a formal report from you. I'll send one of my men for you within the next couple days. Their trial is set for the end of the week and your presence will be required. Now, if you'll follow me."

Fae was greatly relieved when she heard that Selwyn had returned to the Cair relatively unharmed. She determined to find him soon as she followed Herve. Leala followed her closely, nearly running into her at times. Fae gritted her teeth and was very happy when the Minotaur stopped in front of a cell. Kiran was sitting on the bed, staring out the window, daring it to rain with his glare.

"Good afternoon, Kiran." He jumped at her voice, but settled quickly. He made no reply in return. She tried not to let it unnerve her.

"I have a question for you, Kiran."

He said nothing.

"Who hired you? When? Where?"

He remained perfectly still.

"Things will go better for you if you answer her, lad." Herve prompted.

Nothing. The three waited for several minutes, but he made no sign that he'd even heard them. Herve was growing impatient and Leala was growing faint. Fae spoke again:

"Kiran, you were kind to me in the forest. I do not believe that you wanted to perform the task Gamba Kalb gave you. Please tell me. It could help save you."

He didn't look at her or speak and the Minotaur motioned for them to leave. They were barely three feet away from his cell when soft words drifted after them:

"There was a reward."

All three stopped and Fae and Herve turned back to him. The young man was still staring out the window.

"There was no name, just a challenge issued to any who wanted easy money. It was sent all over Calormen and Archenland. A huge reward for anyone who brought an Terebinthian girl with green eyes and dressed in Archenlandish clothing, dead or alive, to a port in Calormen where she would be traded for the money. Issued less than a month ago. My uncle is one of the bounty hunters who answered it. He brought me with him."

He said no more and the three left him. It didn't take much of the Dryad's prompting to get Fae to leave the dungeon and she followed the chattering creature in silence. She was so occupied with her thoughts that she didn't notice that Leala had stopped to bow and ran right into the figure the Dryad was bowing to. That is, she ran into High King Peter.

He didn't seem to have seen her anymore that she'd seen him and there was a tremendous crash as the two brooding bodies came together and then two very irritated people as a result.

"Watch where you're going!" she cried.

"I could say the same to you, Princess!" he snapped, putting a bit more than a sarcastic emphasis on her title.

All the anger she'd felt in the throne room resurfaced and this time she didn't bother restraining it.

"I would contain my self-righteousness if I were you, Your Majesty," she said coolly. "_You_ are the one who lied to me." The High King opened his mouth to speak, but she didn't let him, "I'm not done, sire. My entire purpose for going to Narnia was to seek out the High King and ask his help. You could have saved me from a good deal of trouble and saved several men their lives! Don't you _dare_ be angry with me. This is your fault." she ended her tirade there and ran past him, leaving both the High King and Leala speechless in her wake.

OoOoOo

Fae stared at the rain, the circlet she'd worn twisting about idly in her hands. A bath had been drawn for her, but she'd dismissed Leala and now it sat growing cold even as she sat growing cold next to her window. The dinner Susan had sent up to her was also cold and sitting on a tray next to the fireplace. She regretted every word she'd spoken more than she could have imagined. He had hurt her with his façade and she'd behaved like a wounded bear. She knew she had been wrong to heap such accusations on his head. She stood and paced, with every step her guilt grew.

"Oh Aslan...What am I going to do?" she whispered as she collapsed in front of the fire, now feeling the cold that was on the inside and outside of her. She pulled her knees close to her chest and laid her head atop them, wanting to cry but feeling too hopeless for tears to come. And then the fire blew up.

Or that's what it seemed like to Fae. In reality it just got a lot bigger and louder than it had been. And that was on account of the roar that came out of it and the sudden appearance of a lion's head. At the roar the windows burst open and an icy cold wind hit Fae, blowing her hair into her face. That's when Fae became thoroughly frightened, because she saw the Lion and was afraid of the consequences for her actions. The Lion just looked at her with burning eyes and her heart ached with such a terrible pain that she thought it would never mend. She shivered and her eyes filled with tears.

"Oh Aslan . . . I'm so sorry. I was horrible. Just horrible. He didn't deserve what I said and I can't take it back. What am I going to do?"

The Lion in the fireplace just gazed at her with those dreadful eyes.

"Please speak to me, Aslan. Please. I know what I said was absolutely awful. I'm so sorry. He just made me so mad! I'm afraid I'll never get his help now. Oh Aslan . . . "

His had eyes changed now, they were full of love and forgiveness now. Fae's heart mended all at once as she looked into them. The gust of wind change to a gentle, warm breeze and it dried her tears instantly. Just as the Lion in the fireplace vanished, a gentle voice spoke to her in words she couldn't hear with her ears, but felt with her heart. And those were private, special words of reprimand and of love and we do not need to know what they were.

Not a moment later there was a soft knock at her door. Fae, who felt much, much better, stood slowly and answered it, acutely aware of the cold breeze blowing through the open windows . The High King was on the other side, leaning against the frame, and he was far less at ease.

"I—Um. May I speak with you, Princess?" It was the first time he'd used her title without sarcasm attached to it. Shame flooded her all over again and she prepared herself for the onslaught of accusations she knew awaited her.

"Of course. Please come in . . ."

The first thing Peter noticed when he entered the room (where there was considerably better light) was that her eyes were red and her face pale. More guilt was added to that which already laced his chest. He also saw that fire was out and that her windows were wide open. He strode to the windows and began to draw them shut, pulling the curtains shut as well.

"You should not have your windows open, Princess, it grows cold in Narnia and it is easy to catch a chill in this castle."

"Thank you, Sire. I did not realize the danger."

For several moments the High King stood at the window, toying absent-mindedly with the curtain sash. Fae watched him, biting the inside of her lip to keep the questions at bay. Finally she asked him if he would like to sit down.

"Uh...Yes, that would be best, wouldn't it...?" He followed her to the chairs by the fire and sat after she did. He noticed there was an untouched dinner tray, but didn't say anything about it. Instead he gathered his courage and looked at her earnestly.

"I just came to..." He sighed, "I just..."

"I'm sorry," Fae said. "I shouldn't have--"

"No! It's not you. It's me, I know better now. Aslan just came to me and told everything and showed me how beastly I was to you and I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry and to ask your forgiveness for my lying to you about who I am. I just wanted to be a normal person for once. Just . . . Peter. But I see now that it was selfish of me and that it wasn't right and I'm sorry."

"You have my forgiveness, King Peter, if you in turn will forgive me for my anger against you, it was most childish and very uncalled for."

"It is forgotten. Would you allow me to start your fire, Princess Fariishta, so you do not catch cold?"

"Call me Fae. And I can do it, thank you. You forget that I chopped wood for fire not too long ago."

"Of course. And you can call me Peter and never call me "sire" again. I can't stand that formality and since you're going to be staying here until spring, I--"

"I beg your pardon? Staying until spring?

"Did Aslan not tell you? He told me that you were to stay here until he came in the spring."

"But the Terebinthians need me now!"

"Aslan said that Terebinthia isn't ready for you yet and that it's far safer for you to remain here."

"But wait 'til spring! What will I do?"

Peter smiled.

"I'm sure we can find something. If you're sure that you don't need assistance with your fire then I will leave you. I have some work that needs to be done yet."

"Of course." She stood when he stood and walked him to the door.

"Good night, Fae. Rest well, and put out of your mind your fears and worries. You have Narnia's full support and protection."

"Thank you." She smiled and curtsied.

"None of that either. Friends disregard certain aspects of royal protocol. You will still be my friend, won't you? Like before all this nonsense started?" She nodded. "Splendid. Breakfast is served at eight if you wish to join us. Now please, go sleep. Today has been difficult for you."

He gave her one last smile as she shut the door. Peace flooded her whole being. If Aslan said so, then it must be so, and right now all she had left was to trust him completely. As she changed into bedclothes that Leala had laid out for her, her stomach growled and she realized she'd never be able to sleep unless she ate something. She walked over to the tray of cold dinner and looked at it distastefully. One never wants to eat cold pork chops and mashed potatoes after all. Once again there was a knock on her door.

A Dryad stood on the other side, a silver tray with a little teapot and some buttered toast in her hands.

"The High King sent this up."

Fae grinned. "Thank you very much."

"It is my honor, Princess. Good night."

"Good night."

Fae ate the toast and tea, and was quite sleepy when she went to bed. She fell asleep with a full stomach and an even fuller mind, and she dreamt of everything that had gone on that day.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Fae woke early the next morning (feeling ever so much better, as things are always much better in the morning) and was able to watch the sunrise over the sea. She also took time to admire her room. It was large with several windows that let in the pale light of the sun rising over the ocean. There was a divan and a settee by the window and a pair of armchairs next to the fireplace. A vanity and a wardrobe graced one wall and on the opposite wall there was a writing desk and a bookcase lined with more volumes than Fae had seen in her entire life. The entire room was done up in shades of blue, from silvery grey-blue to the deepest dark blue of midnight to the bright pure blue of the Narnian sky. She was up and dressed in an blue dress (the wardrobe at the cave had provided her with a plethora of beautiful dresses to bring) in honor of the room and was in the midst of combing her hair when Leala came to help her dress. She thought that this was nonsense and told Leala that she was perfectly capable of doing things by herself. Leala was quite taken aback (yet again) and thought her a bit strange (also not a new feeling), but not unlike her own two Queens. Fae informed Leala that the only thing she needed was directions to the breakfast room.

"Well, their Majesties usually eat in Queen Lucy's sunroom; her apartments are just down the hall and to your right. Her doors are the beautiful red and purple ones with lion heads as handles."

"Thank you very much, Leala. You can go now."

"Are you sure, milady? You know, they really don't expect me downstairs for at least another hour."

"Does it really take that long to dress and fix one person's hair?"

"Oh yes, you've no idea what those foreign ladies are like. I've heard that they sit in front of that mirror from dawn till dusk sometimes, just fussing with their hair. I for one never really saw the need, but they just go crazy. It's positively absurd." She sighed. "But who am I to tell them no? Are you sure you don't need my help with anything?"

"Yes, I am. Go on and do something you like until they expect you. And have fun."

Leala gave the new princess and odd look before curtsying quickly and running off. Fae tried to tell her that she didn't need to do any more curtsying in her presence but the Dryad was gone before she could get out anything past "please".

Sighing to herself she left her room, memorizing her door before she went down the hall in search of Queen Lucy's apartments. She walked to the very end of the hallway, which ended in staircases going up and down and a landing with a huge picture window and a window seat without seeing the red and purple doors that Leala had described to her. She walked down the stairs to her right and didn't see the doors. She looked up the stairs and didn't see anything either. She looked down the hall she'd just come from, but not a soul was there to ask directions. Biting her lip in annoyance she sat down on the window seat to wait for someone to walk by (she had often got lost in the forest as a young girl and knew better than to try to find her own way).

"Are you alright?"

It was Peter, taking the stairs two at a time, coming down to her. She stood as soon as she saw him, smiling: "Oh, I'm fine. Is everything alright with you?"

"Perfectly, why do you ask?"

"You're going somewhere awfully fast."

"Well, I'm a bit late for breakfast, which by the way; will you be dining with us?"

"Well, actually, I was just on my way."

He looked at her quizzically. "Why are you over here then?"

"Because this is the direction I was pointed in before I became slightly . . . disoriented."

Peter closed his eyes and sighed. She pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to say something, which he eventually did with eyes still closed: "My dear lady, you have veered greatly off course." He opened his eyes and smiled at her. "Will you allow me to accompany you to the breakfast room?"

"I would be delighted. Thank you, kind sir."

He extended his arm to her and once she'd taken it, proceeded to lead her in the direction she'd come from at a reasonably fast stroll. "You look much better this morning."

"Thank you, I slept very well and I can feel the results of such."

"I'm glad your distress from my behavior did not effect your sleep."

"I wasn't at all distressed last night."

"Which is why you didn't eat your dinner or light your fire or shut your windows? And

your pale face and tearstained cheeks are your normal constitution, I suppose. Should I be quite worried because you are completely out of sorts this morning and feeling rather ill at this very moment?"

"I'm fine as I said before. You actually noticed?"

"That you didn't eat anything or that you were about to catch your death from cold?"

"Your Majesty is kind to worry about my health."

"No, 'Peter, you are kind to worry about my health'. None of that 'majesty' nonsense, which I believe I told you last night?"

"Fine, you win, Peter."

This whole conversation took place as Peter led her down the hall (which seemed to be longer than Fae remembered) and past Fae's room (which she noted the position of again, for future reference) further down the hall and up a short flight of stairs. They stopped in front of huge doors that were designed in the shapes of birds and lions and flowers, all in shades of scarlet and amethyst.

"These are the doors to Lucy's apartments. Just down that hallway," he pointed to the left, "is the main corridor to the throne room and grand ballroom and dining room and all other sorts of things that we only use for matters of state, rather boring if you ask me. To your right is another corridor that leads to the kitchens and libraries and the music room, etcetera. The corridor we were just in leads to the rest of our apartments and spare rooms for visitors and whatnot. Please feel free to roam about as if this were your own home."

Fae laughed, "My home would fit into the landing you found me on."

Peter smiled. "My old home would have too. But that's a story for another time. Shall we break the fast?"

"We haven't missed it yet?"

"Well, not most of it."

After breakfasting with the royal siblings (they were not too very late at all) Fae was accompanied back to her room by Susan, who asked her to go on a picnic with her and Lucy that afternoon. Fae promised she would. "And Susan?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know where Lysander is? I need to speak with him."

"Lysander is with the Council. They think highly of his opinion; he and his brother are some of the wisest centaurs in all of Narnia. Feel free to enter any room you wish and explore as much as you'd like. I'll send someone for you around noon; we'll have a nice little picnic under the changing leaves."

"It sounds wonderful, thank you, Susan."

Fae spent the rest of the morning wandering into hidden nooks and crannies and discovering all sorts of rooms whose purposes she didn't quite understand and some she did. She found a map room that was lined nearly floor to ceiling with maps of places she had and hadn't heard of. Three doors down from that was a delightful little room that was full of lovely tea things. She didn't stay there for very long, afraid she'd break the beautiful china just by breathing. And she discovered a cozy library, not as big as two others she'd spotted and far brighter. One wall was completely covered in windows and opposite from the windows was a fine little fireplace. It was done up in nice, earthy colors of browns and greens and blues and she liked it very much. She made note of where it was and saw to it that she could remember how to get to it from her room. On her way back, she was intercepted by a messenger of Susan's, a sweet chickadee who informed her the two queens would be going to the stables in ten minutes.

"The stables?" Fae squeaked, having always preferred to walk instead of ride. The bird trilled at her (Fae supposed it was a laugh).

"Of course, Princess, the Queens ride nearly everywhere outside the Cair."

Fae made a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a whimper and followed the little bird as he led her to the stables. When she entered the big building she decided that the stables at the Cair were the most beautiful and well cared for stables in the whole world. They had to be because they housed whatever Talking Horses and Unicorns that wished to stay there as well as dumb horses. This made them very big, because Horses like their space, and Unicorns are another story altogether when it comes to personal privacy. The stables had no doors, so the Horses could come and go as they pleased and there were always stable hands there to assist not only riders, but the Horses themselves. The barn was huge and airy and was surrounded by lush meadows and arenas where the horses could eat and run and do all sorts of things. Susan and Lucy were already saddling their horses when Fae arrived. She was led to a beautiful sorrel mare who was prancing in her stall, ready to go.

Fae gulped when she saw the horse, who was several hands taller than the nag she'd left in Archenland and far more spirited. For one thing, this horse was young, and as far as Fae could tell, easily excited. She seemed gentle enough, but far more than Fae could handle. Fae was sure couldn't ride such a creature and said so. "I don't ride too often. Mostly we just walked wherever we needed to go."

Susan was instantly apologizing and she and Lucy offered to walk or to eat the picnic lunch in one of the gardens. Fae declined. "No, it wouldn't be fair to you. Besides, I've got to learn sometime, don't I?"

A groom led her to a far gentler beast, an older, far less graceful horse who looked as if nothing in the world could phase him. The groom introduced the steed as Eachan carefully guided Fae through the steps of saddling him properly. Lucy and Susan came over when they were done saddling their horses to watch and offer tips. When they finally set off, the sun shining down on them without any traces of the storm the night before. They went at a slow pace for Fae's sake. She was struggling with the fact that there weren't any reigns, as those are considered cruel in Narnia, and she was having a hard time hanging on.

"Grip his body with your knees and legs, Fae. That's better, but not so tight. You shan't be injured if you fall off." Lucy instructed.

"As long as we're walking, no, but if he decides to run that may change."

"Eachan is very steady, but in any case, we won't do any running for a while," Susan assured her.

It took a while for Fae to get the hang of riding and not grasping onto anything. She nearly fell off a few times (and once actually did), but she found that Lucy's words were true and that she was not injured. Susan and Lucy were very patient with her, keeping their mounts at a slow, steady pace. After about an hour worth of riding they came to their picnic spot and got off to eat. It was a lovely little nook where a spit of land covered in aspen trees reached out to meet the sea. They spent more time than they had intended, and the three had to hurry back to the castle so the Queens wouldn't miss a very important meeting.

The ride back was a about the same as the ride there. In their hurry she nudged Eachan into a canter which was fast for him (but not to the Queens who had to wait for them ahead). Even though his fast was rather slow, Fae fell off a good deal. She was sore and bruised when they arrived back at Cair Paravel, but there was that touch of pride that comes with accomplishing something you've never done before.

While Lucy and Susan were at their meeting (she'd found it was with the events coordinator to discuss a ball that was still months away) she found Lysander during a break in the Council session and told him of her conversation with the High King and then of Aslan's appearance in her fireplace and of how she was to stay at the Cair until spring. Before he could reply, the Council had to go back into session. He left her with a bow and she wandered about until she found the cozy library and spent the rest of her afternoon reading. By six she was back in her room and was changed for dinner and was waiting at Lucy's door before seven. She waited there until Lucy came out and showed her where the dining room was.

OoOoOo

The next day a Pygmy goat came to get her report and to inform her of what she would be required to do at the trial, which was the next day. It was simple really. All she had to do was give her account when it was asked for and sit silently for the rest of the time.

It sounded easier than it actually was.

The next day she found herself sitting in the throne room (empty of the courtiers that had been there on her last visit), listening to Selwyn give his account. Gamba Kalb and Kiran stood to the left of the throne, just in front of her. The two were chained and surrounded by an armed guard, but she couldn't evade the disgust that was emanating from Gamba Kalb's glare. Edmund (who was facilitating the trial) called upon her to speak next and she stood to give her story, which you already know so I won't bother repeating it, especially since it was peppered with questions.

She saw the flash of anger in Gamba Kalb's eyes when she reveled Kiran's kindnesses to her and noted that he suddenly grew rigid. She would have balked if the anger had been directed at her, but it wasn't. Kiran was receiving the full heat of his glare. She finished quickly, unnerved by his anger.

Lysander told his story, and she found out that when Anatolei had rescued her, he had been there too. He explained how the dragon had been the distraction while he had snuck up behind them and subdued the two. Marmion told his part of the story too and when he was finished Edmund rose and addressed the two:

"Gamba Kalb, Kiran Anasari. There is sufficient evidence to convict the two of you. If there's anything you'd like to say in your defense, I would speak it now."

Silence.

Fae turned her eyes onto Kiran, silently begging him to say something to defend himself. He didn't. She didn't want him to suffer because of something his uncle had forced him to do, but the young man sat in stoic silence while she agonized over him. Edmund opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted as words poured out of her mouth: "I would like to speak on the behalf of Kiran Anasari,"

Edmund's mouth snapped shut and nodded. "Continue."

"He was kind to me. He protected me from the wrath of Gamba Kalb and forced him to stop and rest, for my sake. He gave me food and drink when I was hungry and the cloak off his back when I was cold. He gave me valuable information that the Minotaur captain, Herve, can confirm. I don't believe that it was his choice to kidnap me. I think he was forced. Please, do not treat him harshly."

"Does she speak in truth?" Edmund asked.

"I was not in agreement with my uncle in stalking and kidnapping an innocent girl, especially when the objective was to deliver her to her death. But he is my uncle and my guardian, I had to follow him."

At this Gamba Kalb grew livid and his anger darkened his every feature. Fae was thankful that he had several guards surrounding him. Not that it helped.

"Thank you." Edmund said. "My royal siblings and I will take a brief recess. Court will reconvene in one hour.

The Four rose and disappeared through the door she'd been led through only a few days earlier. As was customary, the entire room rose with them and watched them leave. All eyes were turned upon the Four and for a spilt second none were watching the two prisoners.

Before Fae knew what was happening to her Gamba Kalb had rushed forward and wrapped the chains around his wrists about her neck. She was pressed against him, the chains cutting off her air supply. He was yelling, but she lost track of the words after his screamed "I will kill her!" Her vision was growing fuzzy around the edges and it was all she could do to force herself to take shallow breaths. She heard voices, but couldn't distinguish them, neither could she see the faces who produced them. The world was growing black and she couldn't feel her arms and legs. It felt like she was floating.

And then she landed abruptly. Her throat was suddenly freed, but her body was pinned beneath that of Gamba Kalb. Pain flashed through her arms and legs (which she could suddenly feel again) and she gasped with the shock of it. A moment later, the immense weight of the man's body was lifted off of her. She lay on the floor, coughing and gasping, trying to get as much of the wonderful air as possible.

There was a flurry of activity above her. She caught Selwyn's worried face and realized she hadn't yet had a proper talk with him. Kiran was just behind him, staring at her with wide eyes. The faces of the Four appeared over her and obscured her view of everything. Lucy's forehead was creased lightly and she was waving a hand in front of her face. Beyond the girl's hand, Edmund was turning his eyes from Lucy's face to her own and Susan was crying. Peter's face was drawn with worry, his eyes searching her body for any other injuries. Lucy sat back on her heels and smiled brightly. "She's fine. Doesn't even need the cordial. Just keep breathing Fae. You'll be alright in a minute."

The other three sat back too, and a pressure on her hand was released. She looked down sharply and saw Peter's hand pulling away from hers as he exhaled heavily. She caught the look that Edmund shot him over the heads of their sisters as he rose, but Peter said nothing. She was eased into a sitting position and the circle of people around her cleared.

Beyond them she saw Gamba Kalb being lifted onto a make-shift stretcher and carried away. She also saw Edmund walk over to Kiran and speak to him. When she turned back Susan was the only one still with her.

"What happened?" she asked, gesturing towards the group of soldiers that was carrying Gamba Kalb away.

"Kiran Anasari struck him over the head with his chains. He fell unconscious." Susan eyed the young man admiringly. "It was very brave."

They didn't get a chance to speak more, for a stretcher came to bare her away to her room. Out of nowhere, Leala appeared at her side, fussing over her and exclaiming in horror. Fae succumbed to the tiredness that fell over her, whether it was from her experience or to simply relieve herself of the Dryad's chattering, I cannot say.

OoOoOo

Later in the week, Gamba Kalb was sentenced to return to Calormen, under a heavy guard who had a note from the Four demanding he be put into prison. Fae never saw him again. Kiran on the other hand, was released and given leave to do whatever he desired. Fae was given a chance to thank him properly for everything he'd done for her and after he chose to remain in Narnia, they became friends.

Her life at Cair Paravel soon fell into a pattern. She ate breakfast with the Four and afterwards spent some time with a protocol teacher learning how to behave like a princess ought to. Then she'd either go to her library or talk with one of her non-royal friends (she was gaining more than just Kiran and Selwyn) or sit in the back of the throne room and listen in on the court the Four held for the rest of the morning. Oftentimes she would join the Queens for their luncheon and when they had to return to their duties she would then spend a bit of the afternoon learning how to ride properly. The rest of the afternoon she spent in one of the grander libraries, studying history books and laws and politics, most of which she had a difficult time understanding.

To her great relief, Peter often frequented the same library and he could answer most of her questions easily. If it were a matter he could form no opinion on, one of them would seek out Lysander (who'd decided to stay at the Cair for a spell instead of returning to the cave with Anatolei) and the wise Centaur would guide them. They also spent a good deal of time discussing (arguing about would be a more precise term) the age old questions that had no real answer that she came across while reading. When they disagreed, Edmund would be brought into the equation and the younger boy moderated the debate and played devil's advocate for each side before choosing who was in the right. More often than not Fae would question his decision and Peter and Edmund would reverse roles. They would argue until Fae was satisfied with the reasoning (she rarely won against Edmund) and they went to dinner.

And so it went, her days full and happy, edged with fun and learning. I wish I could say that this was how Fae spent all her days until spring knocked on Cair Paravel's doors. Unfortunately I can't. Things happen, as they tend to, and not all are good. Fae was about to experience the not so good.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"I can't believe the good weather has held out like this." Susan said as she saddled her horse.

"Does it not normally here on the coast?" asked Fae.

"Oh it's beautiful here most of the year, but when we get into the winter months-"

"There are awful storms!" Lucy finished dramatically.

"Anyways, I'm surprised it has lasted so long. This will probably be one of our last

picnics." Susan said, ending the conversation for awhile.

They finished saddling their horses in silence. Fae was happy, for she was anxious for spring to arrive. Yet, now that she thought of it, she had this little half of a wish that she could stay at Cair Paravel. She felt at home there. The royal siblings had made her feel like part of the family and she was going to miss them when she was in Terebinthia. There was a pang in her heart as she rode out of the stable behind Susan and Lucy. They had decided earlier that they would be going to the Vale of Roses, a secluded meadow in the woods behind Cair Paravel that was surrounded by rose bushes that bloomed all year long. It was one of Fae's favorite places in all of Narnia, and it wasn't far from the castle. They were almost there when they heard hoof beats behind them.

"It's probably the boys wanting to get out of their lunch meeting with that ambassador from Galma." Lucy said, reining her horse in. The other two followed her lead and Fae looked back. "Where they dressed in black this morning?"

"No . . ." Susan replied, looking over her shoulder at them. Lucy joined the other two and her gasp confirmed that it was not the Kings and the Galmanian ambassador following them.

The same thought occurred to all three and they urged their mounts into a run. Even so, the dark figures were growing closer. Fae felt panic rising in her chest.

"Susan! Your horn!" Lucy yelled over the hoof beats. A moment later a piercing note filled the air, then another.

"Faster! They're gaining on us!" Fae cried.

"Spilt up! Try to get back to the castle!" Susan screamed.

Both queens took off in opposite directions, leaving Fae alone. She pressed her mount to continue going straight. Fae looked over her shoulder. One of riders was still following her; the other two had gone after the Queens.

Her horse shrieked and unexpectedly Fae was sent flying through the air. She landed on the ground and pain flashed through her head. From her vantage point on the ground she saw what had frightened the horse so: a small snake that was rushing towards the underbrush. When she rolled her aching head back to find the rider that was following her, she saw he had already dismounted and was running towards her with a drawn sword. She rolled just as the blade came down, striking the ground where her head had been. She stood up dizzily, her head throbbing and ducked behind a tree, not a split second too soon, as the sword came flying at her head. It took her attacker a second to pull the sword out of the tree, but it was long enough for Fae to find a thick stick.

He ran at her and she dodged him, catching him in the ribs with her stick as she ran back to the path. She looked around, and thought she saw hazy riders in the distance. She shook her head and blinked rapidly, but didn't get a chance to double check. This was because she was suddenly knocked off her feet and pinned on the ground, her stout stick falling from her hand and landing just out of her reach. Malicious eyes glittered at her and as he raised his sword over his head she saw a charm glittering at his wrist. It seemed familiar, but she didn't have the time to dwell on it.

His sword was a hair's breath from her throat when horses thundered around them. While he was gapping at them she twisted and grabbed her stick, throwing all her weight behind the blow that caught him on the side of the head. A split second later her body was freed and the black rider was restrained, ropes bound around him. She saw Peter and Edmund with Selwyn and several other soldiers she didn't recognize before she noticed that there was blood everywhere and squirmed to get away from it. Peter was kneeling next to her in an instant, cradling her head and holding her still. His face was pale beneath his summer tan, making her wonder what was wrong. She didn't ask. Her head ached, and the blood wouldn't go away. Before she knew what was happening she was lifted from the ground, pressed close to Peter's chest. A few jolts later landed her in the arms of a Centaur she didn't know. Or perhaps she did, the world was growing so black that she couldn't tell.

"Get her to the castle! She needs the cordial! Fae, looked at me." She struggled to focus on his face. When she locked eyes with him, he smiled at her, but it wavered on the edges. Or perhaps it was just her vision. "You're going to . . ."

She was unconscious before he finished the sentence.

OoOoOo

It was dark when she opened her eyes, thankful that the nightmare was over. Almost without realizing it, she reached behind her head. There was no blood, no torn skin, not even a scar. She was fine. Yet her hand was shaking. Her eyes didn't take long to adjust to the darkness, for there was a fire burning brightly in the fireplace and candles glowing merrily on her bedside table. She tried to sit up and the room began to spin.

"No, Princess, you mustn't do that!" Leala cried, rising from her seat next to the bed and pushing Fae back down with a strength she didn't know the Dryad possessed. "You lost so much blood! The doctor said--"

"I what?" Fae cut in.

"When you hit your head you lost a lot of blood," the Dryad explained patiently, fluffing a pillow beneath her head. "The doctor said you need to rest."

Everything that had happened came flooding back all at once. She shuddered at the remembrance of all that blood. Questions came to her mouth before her mind could comprehend them all and she sat bolt upright, much to Leala's dismay.

"Are Susan and Lucy alright? Where did they come from? What were they doing? Why did they--Oh . . . My head . . . " She fell back onto the pillows. "Ow . . . Why can't I sit up on my own?"

""I told you, you lost a lot of blood. And Queen Lucy says the cordial can't fix things your own body will take care of in due time. And the queens are fine. You'll just have to wait for your other questions, I just don't know. You scared me out of five rings, Princess! When they brought you in all bloody and pale, I thought for sure you were dead, but then the High King said you weren't. I've never been so relieved in all my life! Why, even when my Granny fell--"

"Can I have something to drink?"

The Dryad blinked as the question registered before she hurried to do as requested. A minute or two later a goblet was thrust into Fae's waiting hands. "Here." Fae's throat rejoiced as the cool liquid coursed down it. She handed it back to the Dryad who refilled it and then she drank some more as Leala picked up her list of most reliving (and frightening) moments: "And then there was the time that the High King went off to--Oh my! The King! He wanted to be summoned as soon as you woke! And the doctor! I'll catch it for sure now! Excuse me, Princess, I'll be right back." She took a few steps towards the door and paused. "Oh dear! I'm not supposed to leave you! Whatever shall I do now? Someone has to tell the High King! Oh dear--"

"Leala." Fae said. Her summons went unnoticed. She tried again, louder this time. "Leala." No avail. "Leala!" She sent an ill-aimed pillow at the Dryad's head. It landed halfway across the room, but effectively silenced the worried ramblings.

"Yes, Princess?"

"Summon another servant to go for the High King."

Leala blinked. The idea had obviously never occurred to her, but she rushed to do as her mistress bade. A moment later another servant had been sent to fetch the doctor and Peter. Fae did her best to stay awake, but it was a struggle. Fortunately her struggle didn't last too long.

Peter was there in minutes, still dressed (though his clothing was far messier than it normally was) and with a quill tucked behind his ear. Behind him was Lucy (who looked as though she'd just woke) and a Satyr with white hair and a neatly trimmed beard to match. The doctor, she supposed.

Peter felt relief flood his veins when he saw her, eyes wide and following the movements of Lucy and Dr. Devdan Ranjit. He stayed back, not wanting to get in the way as Lucy looked her over, the Satyr verifying or correcting her prognosis. He had been proud that his little sister wanted to learn of medicine. Now he was grateful, knowing she'd tell him every last detail later.

"Fae, this is Dr. Ranjit. He's my tutor and one of the best physicians we have here." Lucy was saying as the doctor extended his hand.

"Pleased to meet you." Fae said drowsily, willing her eyelids to stay open.

"And you as well, Princess. We will talk more in the future, of that I am certain. But right now it's best if you rest. Your body does wondrous things as you sleep. Come, Lucy. We will discuss our patient in the hall."

The Satyr and Lucy exited the room, speaking softly and comparing notes. Peter was nearly out the door when she stopped him.

"Peter!" He turned to her. "Peter, you saved me," she whispered.

"Not really. I--"

"You picked me up and called for the cordial . . ." A yawn interrupted her. "And you . . . you pressed your hand over the wound to stop the bleeding . . . " She was nearly asleep.

"What anyone would've done, I just got there first."

"Thank you...Peter..." Now she was asleep. Peter looked down at her and smiled, wondering if he looked so young when he was asleep. "Sweet dreams."

He nodded to the Dryad and she took up her place in the chair next to Fae. He left, pausing to speak to the guard he'd placed at her door before going to his room, finally able to sleep.

OoOoOo

When Fae woke up the next morning Leala was sleeping in an armchair next to her bed, her head propped up on one hand. The sun was shining brightly through her windows and she was shocked at herself for sleeping in so late. She grumbled about missing breakfast as she sat up and swung her legs off the bed. The room spun and her head throbbed and she fell back on the bed with a grunt.

"What? Oh my! I must have fallen asleep!" Leala said even before her eyes were fully open. "Look at how high the sun is. Goodness me." She suddenly sat up, wide awake. "Oh dear! Oh deary me! Just look at that sun! I'm so sorry, Princess!"

"For what?"

"Well, their Majesties were wanting to eat breakfast with you this morning, but we've slept clear through breakfast and most of lunch! I am terribly sorry."

"Don't fret, Leala. It's fine. But I am a little hungry now. Would you be so kind as to fetch me something to eat?" The Dryad sprang to do her bidding. "And eat something yourself, alright?"

"Yes, Princess."

Leala left the room and Fae sighed with relief. The Dryad was growing on her, but her ceaseless chatter was enough to drive a person mad. She smiled and settle back into the pillows, taking in the roof of the bed's canopy with little interest. She reveled in the moments of silence. A knock interrupted her peace.

"Fae?" Susan's voice sounded through the thick wood. "Fae, your guard says you are awake, may I come in?"

"Oh, yes! Please do!"

Susan entered, smiling blithely and ran to her friend's side. They embraced, both equally relieved to see the other aright. Susan's smile turned into concern as she pulled the armchair closer to the bed and perched on the arm. "How do you feel?"

"Much better. Just a bit dizzy really."

"That's good. Lucy says you'll be up and around by next week." She took Fae's hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. There were tears in her eyes. "We were all so terribly worried about you. I'm so glad the other two didn't get to you! The two following us stopped when they saw our faces and took off in your direction! I was so frightened and I didn't have my bow. I was just sure that they'd kill you."

"They wanted me," Fae shivered and Susan's brow etched in concern as she pulled the blankets closer to Fae's chin. "How did they know I was here?"

"We're not sure yet. But we've assigned guards to you, just to be a little safer."

"I don't think that's really necessary."

"Oh, but it is. We can't jeopardize your life by making a mistake as foolish as leaving you unprotected. It for your own good, dear."

Fae sat up, pounding on the mattress with irritation. "But it's not-"

Yet again, the room took up its pitching to and fro and she fell back. Susan's concern grew more visible, but she changed the subject. "I've got to go, but we, Lucy, the boys and I, were wondering if we might join you for dinner tonight. In here, of course, and only if you feel up to it."

"I would love it, Su. Thank you. What time?"

"The usual?"

"Of course, I'll have Leala wake me then. I can't wait."

Susan rose and gave Fae's hand another squeeze. "Alright. I'll see you then." She paused just outside the door. "And Fae?" The princess arched her eyebrows. "It's been a long time since I've seen Peter that worried."

_Whatever is that supposed to mean?_ Fae thought as she watched Susan's retreating back.

OoOoOo

True to her word, just as the sun began to set Susan knocked on the door. She entered carrying a chair and was followed by her brothers and sister. Lucy wasn't holding a chair and she sat gingerly on the bed, ignoring Susan's reprimand about jarring Fae, and began chatting at her. The other three set the chairs close to the bed and a little table was brought in after them. Fae was given a tray with legs so she didn't have to worry about holding it.

The meal was spent filled with much chatter, mostly retelling of the day before from different perspectives. Fae didn't eat much; she wasn't feeling as well as she'd let on. When they'd finished eating the royal siblings stayed with her for a while. Edmund had come across a new conundrum and wanted her opinion. He kept the debate light, sensing Peter's worry at the slightest show of fatigue on her part. It came soon enough and Peter was soon ushering them from the room.

Peter had volunteered to stay with her until Leala returned with her guard for the evening. Fae argued that it wasn't at all necessary, but was silenced by a loud protest from the exiting three and Peter himself. The dinner things were cleared away and the table taken care of and one by one they left. Edmund was the last to leave, and he punched Peters arm and raised his eyebrows at him before he exited the room. Both Edmund's gesture and Peter's glare were unnoticed by Fae, who was lying down again and grumbling at the top of her canopy. Once they were all gone, Peter took the armchair that Susan had been sitting in and gently touched her arm.

"You need to rest." He handed her a goblet with a clear golden liquid inside. "Drink up."

"What is this stuff?" she asked as she obeyed, sipping the sweet liquid.

"The diluted juice of a Silver Apple, it helps you rest and you most certainly need to rest. You're exhausted."

"A sleeping draught?"

"Think of it as a healing draught. It tastes much better than some of the ones out there, let me tell you. And you'll feel much better when you wake up. Now finish it, by order of the High King."

Fae pursed her lips and glared at him, but obliged and drank the rest. As she was drinking, there was a knock at the door. It amused Fae, a loud bang and two soft ones, as if to apologize for being so insolent the first time. Peter called out and the doctor came in.

"Greetings, Princess," said the Satyr, bowing repeatedly. "Oh good! You're drinking the juice. I was just about recommend such action."

"I hardly think a sleeping drought is needed, Doctor."

"No, no, it is quite necessary. Quite necessary indeed; you need sleep, Princess. Lots and lots of rest, that's what those blood cells need. Plus there are other things in the concoction that will help you too."

"How long will I be before I can get up?"

"Well, that depends...It all depends. With a blow like that to the head and all the blood lost...It should be a few days if you keep resting and drinking lots of fluids, all kinds of liquids my dear Lady. Yes, yes, it should be just a couple of days."

"Is there anything you can do to speed up the process?" She stifled a rather large yawn at the end of her question.

"Mmm...We'll see. You need to sleep now Princess. I'll be back later to check on you. That I will. Sleep well, Princess."

Fae glared at the Doctor's back as he and Peter walked towards the door. She then rolled over to face the wall, overcome by her sleepiness and thus she didn't hear what the Doctor said to Peter in lower tones. When Peter came back to the bedside Fae was asleep. He watched her until Leala returned with Selwyn, her guard for the evening. He left with a small smile and a nod to the Faun. "Watch her well."

"Of course."

OoOoOo

The week since Fae's attack passed very slowly, or so she thought. She was seldom alone, but Leala was under the distinct impression that she needed to rest, and therefore anyone outside the royal family who visited her got the same impression. If it weren't for the Four coming to visit her often, she would have gone mad with boredom. Dr. Ranjit absolutely refused to allow her to do any from a strenuous activity, which included sitting up in bed to read a book. He and Fae had several rows over that, ones that she never actually won. One day, Peter came with Dr. Ranjit and after the Satyr took his leave, he stayed behind and their conversation went something like this:

"You know it's for your own good, don't you?" Peter asked after she'd given the guard that had replaced Selwyn (one of her favorites) a rather dirty look behind his back.

"Yes, to a certain degree. But sometimes it's just so foolish! It's not like I'll kill myself. I'm running out of things to do."

"The doctor says you're doing much better. He might even let you out of your room soon."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Peter, if you're playing games with me I'll give you the worst thrashing you've ever received as soon as I can get up."

"I couldn't if I wanted to, you'd catch on far too quickly."

"That's right. So don't try to pull anything funny."

"I won't."

"Promise?"

"Yes."

"Good."

They sat in silence for awhile before she spoke again.

"Peter, may I ask a boon of you?"

"As long as it has nothing to do with you being left unprotected." Susan had told him about a plan Fae had been devising and he had been preparing himself for a conversation like this.

"But why can't I learn how to defend myself? It's not like there aren't better things for those soldiers to do. Besides, what use will I be in the taking back of Terebinthia if I don't possess the knowledge to defend myself against the enemy?"

Peter froze. He'd not imagined her actually going to war. Perhaps staying back with the archers, but not actually fighting, not being in the face of danger. The same fear that he contracted when he thought of his sisters on the battlefield turned his stomach into a tight knot. He shook the feeling off and forced a calm response to leave his lips.

"And what would you learn to defend yourself with?"

"Well, I do have a sword. Learning to use it would be a good start. I mean, I can use my knife, but not well. And I can't hit the broad side of a barn with anything. I'm sure it would be very useful."

"You have a point. Perhaps learning to defend yourself would be a good thing," his voice sounded stiff. "But you'll need to be protected until you learn some basics, and while you're recuperating, of course."

"Well, yes. Could it be done though?"

"I'll think about it and talk to some of the generals to see about finding you a willing

teacher . . ." he trailed off, getting lost in thought. Only the rather annoyed clearing of her throat brought him back to the room. "We'll see what's to be done, alright? Now, if you'll excuse me, I just realized that there's something I must do."

Fae smiled at his first statement, then became disappointed at the second, but didn't complain about him leaving her. She understood that he had duties that came before visiting a sick friend. He took her hand a squeezed it before he left her.

"And Peter?" He didn't turn to her from the doorway.

"Yes?"

"It wouldn't hurt anything of you smiled."

"Right. I'll see you later."

"I'll be here."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"Peter, There's been a new, um . . . development with Fae's attacker."

They were leaving Fae's room after breakfast when Edmund approached his older brother with a tidbit of interesting news. Now he waited expectantly as his brother stopped and turned to face him.

"And that's why you were late for breakfast, eh? What's up?"

"The prisoner's a girl, Peter."

"What!"

"She cut off her hair and whatnot to look like a boy, but she screamed at the guard this

morning and her voice gave her away." Edmund paused, "Peter, we've got a girl locked in the dungeon."

"Well?"

"A little ungallant, isn't it?"

"Would you rather we just let her loose?"

"I wasn't saying that. I was just pointing out that it's not particularly pleasant down there."

"Since when are dungeons supposed to be pleasant?"

"Not the point. And the point would be that she wants to talk to you. Says you'll want to hear what she has to say."

Peter turned and headed towards the dungeon. "Well, are you coming or not?" Edmund ran to his brother's side, offering him his support and his confidence.

The dungeon had not been of much use for them since the first year of their reign. Back then it had been used to hold all the Witch's minions while they decided what to do with them. In the end Aslan had banished them all to an island in the far Eastern Ocean, (This comes into play with a certain Telemarine lord and a future king of Narnia, but you have to read a different book for that adventure.). Beside him, Edmund muttered about ventilation and mildew as a guard led them down the hall to the girl's cell.

She had black hair that was cut unevenly around her face. She seemed to be older than Peter, though not by much. She stared at him, not Edmund, with a ferocious gaze. The girl had eyes that were deadly and as he met her gaze, Peter was reminded of a snake about to strike. There was a scabbed over mark on her face from when Fae had smacked her with a stick. Now that he knew she was a girl, he saw it, although it was well concealed and her face was not womanly or lady like. She laughed grotesquely.

"You dare laugh at the High King of Narnia?" Edmund asked, glaring at her. Later he would say that she reminded him ever so slightly of White Witch and at the time he didn't like her one bit. The girl ignored him, continuing to laugh as Peter laid a hand of restraint on Edmund's arm.

"Who are you?" Peter asked, his voice soft and strong. The girl's laughter stopped and she stood, coming very close to the bars of the cell.

"I am Lakshmi, Lady of the Lone Islands, future Empress of Terebinthia." Her voice dripped with poison and her "l"'s were spread out like butter on toast.

"I believe you are mistaken," Peter said, his eyes dark. "The rightful heir of Terebinthia's throne is recovering from your attack on her life."

She laughed again. "It won't be the only one. She will die, if not at my hand, by the one who sent me."

"Again, you are mistaken. Aslan has willed that she will be queen and Aslan's will shall be carried out."

"It is only a matter of time before something happens to her. The one who sent me is very powerful; there are many who work for him. There could be someone about to kill her even now. She could be dead before you see her again . . ." She clicked her tongue at him. "Tragic."

"You dare not. And besides, Aslan would not allow it to come to pass. What is it that you felt I ought to know?"

"Only this one thing, O, King. She will die."

And with that she started laughing again. Edmund pulled a seething Peter away from the cell. Peter was shaking, but with sudden rage or fear he, himself, could not decide. Edmund had the presence of mind not to say anything just yet (one never wants to let your enemy know you have been stirred by something they said) but as soon as they were upstairs in the palace again, he spoke. "She'll be fine, Peter. That little hobgoblin down there doesn't know what she's talking about. So what if she thinks she'll be queen of Terebinthia? _We're_ the ones that have _her_ locked up, remember?"

Peter's hands were clenched so tightly that there were indentations in them when he unclenched them. He muttered under his breath when he saw four red crescents on both of his palms, but said nothing in response to his brother's comments. They did little to relieve him. Edmund noticed the cuts on his brother's palms, but merely raised his eye brows. They walked towards Fae's room in silence, Peter's determined steps echoing down the hall while Edmund followed after his brother, shaking his head. He knew his brother was fiercely protective, but this was odd even for him.

"Edmund," Peter's voice cut in on his thoughts, "Get a message to the best and fiercest warriors we have, tell them that there will be a meeting three days from now and their presence is greatly needed. Then go to the Council meeting a send Oreius and Lysander to my study."

"Anything else?"

"Um, have the head of weaponry inspect Fae's sword. She'll be needing it."

Edmund arched his eyebrows again. "Right." At that he turned around and went down the opposite direction of the hall, muttering to himself that Peter better not get himself too deep into this affair and that he hoped Peter knew what he was doing.

Peter then went to Fae's room, and entered it without knocking. He was severely startled to find a point of a sword at his throat. Helmont the bobcat had been practicing swordplay in front of the fire and when the door opened, automatically sprung at the intruder. The poor cat was mortified to find that he had his monarch at the end of his sword and there were many apologies on both sides before Peter made it beyond the threshold.

Fae was sleeping and perfectly fine, just as Edmund had said. Peter felt more than a little silly as he dropped onto the armchair next to her bed. Helmont quizzically watched his High King for a few moments and then requested permission to continue his practicing. Of course Peter said yes and soon the cat was so involved with his sword play that he nearly forgot Peter was in the room. Peter simply sat, staring at her. Many things went through his mind as he sat there, none of which we will ever be privy to. He was jolted from his thought by a knock at the door and he was reminded that the two Centaur brothers were waiting for him in his study. When he left her he felt a bit better about the whole situation.

OoOoOo

The next day things went on as they had in the days before. The royal siblings (except Peter, who sent his apologies, but had an urgent something or other to tend to) all came to Fae's room for breakfast as they had a dinner with the god of the River Shribble that they had to attend. Edmund had been strictly cautioned by Peter not to tell the girls that their prisoner was a woman, so he did his best to keep the subject of conversation light. Fae dashed his attempts at light-heartedness by bringing up the topic of her self defense lessons and asking what the girls thought of the idea. Lucy loved the idea and wanted to join in, but Susan was skeptical: "Remember what Father Christmas said about battles being ugly affairs?"

Both Fae and Lucy responded by saying that learning how to defend oneself was not a battle and that Susan should learn how to too. To this Susan replied that she had her bow and that would be enough self defense for her. Edmund just sat there, sipping orange juice, not wanting to be a part of the argument.

The rest of the meal was spent discussing what kind of things Fae (and possibly Lucy) should be instructed in. To Fae's list of swordplay and horsemanship Lucy added hand to hand combat and Susan (tentatively) suggested archery. After that Susan got a bit more excited about the idea and threw in several more good ideas. Edmund sarcastically said that they might as well learn to box which both Fae and Lucy thought was a terrific idea. After that Edmund decided that any attempt at conversation on his part would probably result someone getting mad at him (more than likely Peter; but more fearsome, one of the girls) and stayed quiet. As soon as he was done eating he left rather abruptly. The girls stayed on for a while longer, chatting merrily about lessons, but they too left much too soon for Fae's liking.

Of course, by now Fae was absolutely sick of staying abed all day. During Doctor Ranjit's visit the night before, she had tentatively brought up the idea of leaving her room, so long as she didn't put overdue strain on her body. After much pleading and more arguing she got him to agree to send her something by which she could venture outside.

When he came for his morning visit, just after breakfast, he brought Leala with him instead of Peter, and a contraption that would remind you a bit of a wheel chair. It was a chair and it did have wheels, but that was as far as the resemblance went. This chair was much wider than a wheelchair in our world and was made for so that one could almost lounge in it. It was also wonderfully cushioned and had a blanket strewn over it.

Fae shrieked with glee at the sight of it, and then asked Leala to please fetch her a dressing gown out of the wardrobe and oh wasn't it beautiful? Dr. Ramjit was almost as delighted as she was that she liked it so much but was she sure she was up to it?

"Of course I am! I'm fit as a fiddle, I tell you! Please, mightn't I ride in it? I really am doing so much better! I can even sit up without pillows! Oh, please Doctor?"

"You've taken your drought for today then?"

"Of course I have. Why, Dr. Ranjit, I haven't felt better than this since before I hit my head and it's all because of you and that wonderful chair!"

"Well...I suppose it wouldn't do any harm, would it? No, no, indeed not a bit of harm at all to go and leave the sickroom. Go on then."

Fae shrieked with glee and Leala came running over with her dressing gown and helped her into it. It took some doing to get Fae into the chair, for upon standing, she fell over from dizziness. That would not deter her though, and soon she was in the hall, being pushed by Leala. Her guard for the day, a Faun named Tunderkin, who preferred to sit just inside the door, gazed at them with huge eyes. Fae called to him to go on and have fun while the sun still shone. Leala giggled and he shook his head in amazement. "Where to first, Princess?"

"I would like to stop by the throne room, if that's alright?"

"Of course, ma'am."

It took them a while. Though this wheelchair was far nicer than one in our world, it was much harder to maneuver. Leala was not strong at all and she had a very flighty sense of timing as well as direction. There were times when Fae was rammed into walls and doors accidentally. Then turning corners came, the first few the Dryad missed altogether. Mostly this was because she wouldn't start turning the wheelchair until the end of it was completely past the edge of the threshold and then Fae's feet would get mashed into another wall. This made Fae laugh like she hadn't in ages. By the time they got to the throne room they were laughing so hard that they went right past the doors and then there was a rather difficult three hundred and sixty degree turn that they had to make. The entire Court had stopped and was dead silent when Leala pushed Fae into the very back of the throne room.

The Four were all there morning and when they heard the loud laughter from the outside

hall, they (like the rest of his Court) became silent and looked to see what the commotion was. When Lucy saw it was Fae, she was delighted to see her looking so splendid, wreathed with smiles as she was and nearly giggled allowed, stopping herself in the nick of time. Edmund had closed his eyes and shook his head, looking a lot like a bemused parent, at the sight. Susan didn't know if she should laugh or scold. She settled on bestowing an apologetic smile on the Rabbit before them and rolling her eyes at Fae. The first thing that occurred to Peter was that she looked better than she had in ages. The second, apprehensive concern to see her in the chair, which looked more awkward than it had in the workshop he'd scene it in last. Fae silenced her giggles and gave them a sheepish grin. Peter shook his head before he motioned for the Rabbit before him to continue with his complaint.

Fae whispered to Leala that she could go on and do something fun if she so desired. Leala nearly sighed in relief, but caught herself, bobbed in a quick curtsy and was gone in moments. She (like many Dryads) was not terribly thrilled at the thought of having to sit and listen to creatures give reports and complaints to the royal siblings, no matter how loyal she was to her mistress.

Peter only half-heard the rest of the Rabbit's complaint, most of his attention was focused on Fae. It was a good thing that there weren't many issues to be brought before them that morning, for he would have had a hard time giving satisfactory responses. Finally it was over. As the throne room cleared out they slowly made their way towards Fae who, of course, couldn't move without someone pushing her from behind. It was a while before any of them got to her, for courtiers barely let one take a step without have to shake a hand or listen to a word from a particularly pompous person on how one was too kind to that impudent beast that had the audacity to say something so absurd. Peter had to do a lot of smiling and nodding and side-stepping and although he was moving as quickly as he could, he was still the last to reach her. Fae smiled brightly when he approached her and his smiled widened in return. He quickly composed himself while he took in the apparatus she was perched upon.

"What _is_ that thing?" he asked her. Another brilliant smile graced her face as she explained to him the contraption and expressed her joy at not being stuck inside her room all day anymore.

"Not that I don't like it. It's just that one gets sort of tired of staring at the same things for hours on end and then falling asleep and waking up to the same exact things day after

day."

"It does sound a bit tiresome. I admit I felt sorry for you on more than one occasion. Where are you going after this?"

She looked a little dismayed. "Well, I sent Leala away. I forgot I needed a way to get back to my room."

"The boys will push you," Susan offered. "And we'll all accompany you. How's that?"

"You don't mind?"

"_I_ do." Edmund joked.

"Fine, I'll start, that doesn't mean you're getting out of anything." With that Peter stepped behind her and took the oddly shaped handles in his hands. The throne room had cleared out by now, and he proceeded to push the chair and its passenger out the door. He did far better than Leala, being stronger and a little more coordinated as far as timing and direction went, but their trip was certainly interesting. They talked and laughed and Peter complained about the difficulty of pushing her around to which Fae retorted that maybe he should carry her then. As a response he gave the wheelchair a mighty push and sent it flying down the hall. Fae screeched and turned and sat on her knees facing backward to holler at him. Or that's what she meant to do. Instead, the motion of her leaning against the arm of the chair caused it to keel over and sent her sprawling on the floor. The girls cried out and they came running when they saw that she was struggling to get up. Edmund reached her first and knelt next to her giving her a hand as she tried to push herself up. He caught her subtle wink before she collapsed back on the floor and eased her limp form to the ground.

"Peter, what have you done?" he asked, playing his part well.

"Oh no! Fae? Fae!" Peter cried as he pushed the hair off her face.

Edmund caught his sister's eyes over their brother's head and passed the wink on. Lucy's eyes widened and Susan breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"Gotcha!"

Fae squeaked and then burst into laughter at the look on Peter's face as he pushed her away from him. She just lay on the floor and laughed at him. His brother and sisters were laughing too. He fumed for a moment, but finally he broke down and laughed with them. A dignified looking leopard walked past them and gave them a reproachful look before he realized it was the Four and the Princess of Terebinthia. He rushed away, his face contorted in horror. That made them laugh all the harder.

"We'd better get going, don't you think?" Fae finally asked between giggles.

"Well, yes, I supposed we'd best..." He stood up and then (without thinking) grabbed her hands, pulling her to her feet as easily as he would Lucy. However, this did not have the desired affect, for she couldn't stand on her own two feet very well due to dizziness. She fell forward, her fall cushioned by his chest. She looked up at him, and he down at her, their foreheads touching and eyes locking. Fae suddenly couldn't breathe, and the smiles were erased from both of their lips.

"I can't stand up yet," she whispered.

"No."

"Ahem . . ." Edmund's grunt jerked them back to reality and they pulled away from each other. Fae let the girls support her while Peter and Edmund righted the chair. The girls helped her settle the upright chair and Edmund began to push her. Susan and Lucy chattered lightly with Fae and Edmund peppered the conversation with sarcastic comments while Fae did her best to pay attention. Peter walked several steps behind them, lost in his thoughts. Shouting behind them made them pause. Kiran ran to them. "Oh good, you're all together! The river god from Shribble just arrived. He seeks an audience with your Majesties."

"Oh bother!" Lucy said. "I'm sorry, Fae. No company again."

"I would gladly keep you company, Princess. That is, if you wish it." Kiran said, smiling.

"It's Fae, Kiran. And I would be delighted. I'll see you all tomorrow then?" she asked the siblings.

"We'll try to drop by later tonight if you're game." Susan said apologetically. "Well, it's no use trying to delay it. Shall we go then?"

The Four started down the hallway. Fae's laughter made Peter pause. Kiran was trying to navigate the silly contraption had just ran into a wall. Her voice carried to him:

"Mightn't we go outside? I miss the sun."

"If it would bring a smile to your face, I would do much more."

At his words, Peter's mind conjured up a rather startling thought. And since I'm sure you want to know what it was, I'll tell you: he decided that Fae and Kiran might have feelings for each other. Such a thought weighed heavily on his heart and with slow steps he followed his siblings.


	9. 13

**Author's Note: **So people, I'm updating earlier than normal! Not even procrastinating one little bit, and that's something as Ava Rainna can tell you. :D By the way! Thanks to: musafa, Ava Rainna, Raine Ishida, Fizzing-Whizbee-nz, and our newest friend! EnamoradaConDios for wonderful reviews that made me smile a lot! Have a great weekend darlings!

**Chapter 19 **

_In Which Many Lesson Are Learned and Someone Disappears_

Weeks went by and Fae recovered fully. Or at least, that's what she led everyone to believe. Though she never would let it on and you couldn't tell by her appearance, she still got dizzy spells, but she learned to control these and to continue living despite them.

Peter was trying to squelch his feelings for her, which had not worked very well. The other Pevensies had been wondering what was going on between them, but had not yet said anything to either. Kiran's back was nearly mended and he could walk around and join them during dinner as he'd been apt to do before the attack. The girls had taken to eating lunch in Susan's apartments, now that it was getting too cold to go out picnicking everyday.

Fae had come up with a new routine for her days. In the morning, after breakfast (which Peter very rarely frequented and Kiran often did), she'd go to the stables and ride either Kalyani to enhance her skill, or one of the warhorses against a centaur general who'd been assigned to exclusively prepare her for the rigors of battle on horse back. After lunch she went off to the Great Hall, which was reserved for feasts and whatnot, but seldom else used. In there she'd learn a myriad of things, sometimes with Lucy, sometimes not. If it was an archery lesson, it was taught by Susan, which they both enjoyed, though Fae wasn't very good. An elm-man, named Siddeus had been commissioned as her hand to hand combat instructor. Her other lessons were in swordplay, and that was taught alternately by Oreius the centaur, or by a dwarf named Bubblefuffin. Lysander often came to these lessons and watched her silently with unchanging, almost sad eyes.

Something should be said of her sword, so I'll put it here, for it was quite unusual. When the Head of Weaponry, a very old Red Dwarf name Tinakin inspected it, he saw that it was very unusual. For one, it shone brighter than any other sword he'd ever seen, and though the scabbard it was in seemed to be older than time, when he pulled it out, the sword was in better condition than his own. There was something strange about it, indeed, the air around it seemed to almost shimmer, but when you looked at it closely, you didn't see anything except an unusually bright sword. When Lysander first saw it he claimed it had a look of magic about it. This disturbed Fae a bit, and sometimes she thought that it was controlling her, instead of the other way around, "But not in a bad way," as she put it. Anyhow, Fae handled that sword much better than any other one she practiced with, not that she handled any weapon particularly well.

"I can't do it!" she cried one day, shoving aside the tip of Oreius' sword after she tripped over her own two feet and he set the point of his sword at her throat. The general allowed her to push aside his sword and he offered a hand to pull her up. The rush of flying upward so fast set her head spinning and without realizing it, she clung to his hand fiercely.

"Are you alright, milady?"

"Yes, of course I am. What did I do wrong that time?"

"Before you swung that tool around like a farmer cutting down grain with a dull reaper or after you tripped over you feet and landed on your hindquarters like an hour old colt?"

Fae pursed her lips and bit back a sharp reply, for she knew he was right, even thought she didn't want to admit it.

"What can I do to fix it?"

"Become graceful," came a laughing voice from the door. The group turned and saw Kiran, Susan, and Lucy standing at the door. Susan had just lightly hit Kiran, who appeared to have made the comment. Kiran grabbed Susan's hand before it hit him again and caressed it briefly. Fae didn't have time to contemplate it though, for Oreius' face had brightened when he heard the sarcastic suggestion and his next statement incensed her.

"The lad brings up a good point. Princess, you need more grace and agility."

"I beg your pardon, but how do I accomplish that?" Fae asked, glaring at Kiran.

"Dancing lessons!" cried Lucy.

"Tumbling!" exclaimed Susan at the same time.

"Both!" said Kiran a moment later, which made him the recipient of another angry glare.

"Good ideas from both Queens," Lysander said, speaking up for the first time. Fae looked incredulous.

"You're not being serious."

"Indeed, Princess, it is a good idea."

"And then you can dance at the Winter Ball!" Lucy cried, jumping up and down excitedly.

"The what?" Kiran and Fae both asked.

"The Winter Ball, it's a celebration of the snowy season. It's coming up in a couple of weeks." Susan explained.

"Dancing lesson?"

"It would help your swordplay immensely." Oreius said. And with that Fae's dancing lessons came into being.

Later that night, she skipped dinner and went to her favorite library, a small, cozy one in the eastern wing of the castle. She had told her guard that she'd be in the dining room with the Royal family who had plenty of guards and she would send for him when she was done eating. She made an elaborate show of entering the dinning room and shutting the door behind her before she slipped into an alcove just before the dining room. After waiting a few minute she darted back into the hall and ran to the library. She had her sword with her, so in her mind, she was alright. The library had thick plush carpets and big picture windows and lovely squishy couches that one could recline in for hours. She hadn't been there in quite awhile and missed the sweet silence of reading in peace. She sank back onto a couch with one of her favorite books and got lost in it within minutes and was in pure bliss at the idea of being alone for a little while. Unfortunately for her, her delicious loneliness was shattered in the span of fifteen minutes.

Peter had skipped dinner as well, not knowing if he could bare the sound of Fae's voice as she spoke to Kiran, for in his mind, she was in love with him and thus every word she spoke to Kiran became full of secrets and hidden meanings, even if it was simply "please pass the potatoes." He had decided a night spent in reading was well over due and had thus departed to his favorite library. He was very surprised to find said library inhabited when he got there. Fae was equally surprised to see him and threw her book at his head before she even figured out who he was. He easily dodged the book (her aim wasn't very good) before he realized who she was and became rather angry.

"Where is your guard?" Fae flinched at how upset his voice was.

"Um...In the kitchen...Maybe..."

"Why isn't he with you?"

"I may have...uh...dodged him..." She said sheepishly.

"Do you know what could have happened to you?! Why do you think you are guarded? For fun?! It's not safe for you to be alone! Do you not understand that?"

Fae bit her lip.

"I just wanted to be free for a little bit."

"To be free?! Right now you being free could be the equivalent of you being dead! Is that what you want?"

"No..."

Peter spun around and headed for the door, not realizing in his anger that she would be left alone and unprotected again once he left.

"Peter wait!" she ran after him and when he paused at the door she was right behind him, her hand on his arm. The very second she stopped moving the room started to and she hung onto his arm tighter and longer than she had intended.

"Fae, what's wrong? Why is your face so pale all of a sudden?"

"I'm fine. Really, never felt better. Well, maybe a little." She bit her lip and then looked him in the eye, squeezing his arm lightly.

"Peter, what's wrong? Why aren't we friends any more? I really don't understand."

Her eyes pleaded with him and Peter's face contorted with sadness. He bit his lip and his eyes searched hers, her hand still clung to his arm. He reached out to brush a wayward lock out of her face and his fingertips lingered there. For a moment she found softness in his gaze. And then it was gone. When he spoke his voice was cold and sharp as a knife.

"I will escort you to the dining hall, where you will stay until your guard comes for you unless you want two guards with constantly. Perhaps then you would learn not to take advantage of your small freedoms, you wanton creature you!" He turned away, unprepared for the hurt that her face showed openly.

"Peter..."

He started down the hall, not looking back, for he knew by the telltale sniffs that she was crying. He wondered briefly if he hadn't been mistaken about her and Kiran, but the image of her kneeling at the young man's bedside shoved the wonder away. However, as he watched her contritely enter the dining hall, he wondered, nay, he hoped that his assumption might be wrong.

Dancing lessons improved Fae's swordplay immensely, just as Oreius said they would. She did have Dryad blood in her, no matter how diluted, and after it was awakened there was no hiding it. Her dancing mistress, another Dryad named Barmarre, had saw it immediately and soon she was well versed in all styles of Narnian dancing and then some, though she didn't do well with a lot of them. There was a particularly difficult, almost ballet-ish sort of dance that she really struggled with, mostly because no matter how hard she tried, she could not lift her foot over her head as was the custom of the dance. She worked to become flexible, but with no avail. Perhaps if she'd stretched more in her room as she was supposed to she would have been able to do it, but she didn't and thus the Narnian Moon Dance was never mastered.

As previously mentioned, Fae's swordplay did improve. She wasn't fantastic at it, but that would come with time, or so she was told. She practiced swordplay more and more, especially after she found out that she probably would not be with the archers and thus, archery wasn't absolutely necessary. So to Susan's dismay, archery lessons were dropped almost completely as were riding lessons which were shortened to twice a week. Fae spent a good deal of time working on swordsmanship, which was what she was doing a about a week before the ball.

Her lesson with Bubblefuffin was going quite well. The two got along splendidly and it showed. They were sparring, as they did when they started and finished every lesson, always practicing the newest moves and steps so her body would remember them.

This is what Peter noticed when he walked by on his way to the Council and what made him pause at the door. He came by just in time to see them call a draw.

"Before we move on to the new material," the dwarf said, "perhaps the High King would like to have a go at it with Milady?"

Fae, who hadn't noticed Peter, spun around. Peter froze, his stomach dropping to his toes and his heart leaping into his throat. He saw Fae give Bubblefuffin a sidelong look and he chewed on his lower lip, debating whether he should go to the Council meeting straight away and not risk confrontation with her or if delay the boredom to come as long as possible. He had been avoiding her as much as possible since the night in the library and was about to decline when Fae tossed her hair out of her face and pinned him down with flaming eyes.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt anything," she said in s steely, cold voice, "unless you mind?"

"No," he muttered grimly, now realizing how much he'd hurt her the night in the library, "not at all."

He drew his sword and waited patiently as Bubblefuffin gave instructions while Fae tied her hair back. A few unruly bits escaped the ribbon and hung in her face. She impatiently blew them out of her eyes while she waited for the dwarf to end his instruction. She walked up to face him, Bubblefuffin gave them the word and they began. Circling each other they tried to pick out each other's flaws, Peter avoiding her eyes as much as he could. Suddenly Fae rushed at him wielding her sword in a thoughtless manner. Peter dodged several of the first strikes easily, before he had to block several more with a little bit of difficulty. She hadn't been as careless and he'd thought, for her blows were all directed at his left side, which made his slightly weaker right arm work more, but he stood his ground. He began to toy with her, ever so slightly. Her blows poured down on him, but none came close to him. She was getting angry and her anger made her clumsy, her blows foolish. He waited a bit more, wanting to delay the Council meeting as long as possible. Then, when he could wait no longer, he made one swift movement: her sword was lifted from her hand and landed on the floor with a clang. She gaped while he bowed, sheathing his sword as he ran from the room. He sprinted towards the Council Hall, sweat cooling on his brow. He was about to open the heavy door when shouting made him stop. Edmund came running up to him, breathless.

"Peter...the prisoner..." Edmund panted; his hands on his knees while he tried to catch his breath.

"What about him?"

"Her, Peter...Her...She's gone."

"Oh no..."

"Oh yes. She seemed to vanish just as the change of guards was taking place. She was there before the morning one left and when the afternoon one came down, she was gone. It couldn't have been more than two minutes that she was alone."

"Her cell?"

"Untouched; not a hole, not a scratch, nothing to indicate where she went."

"You're joking."

"I wish...The door wasn't even unlocked."

"Impossible."

"Evidently not."

"This is bad Ed."

"Yes, I realize that."

"Tell the Council that I will not be joining them this afternoon, that something I have something very urgent to attend to, but don't tell them what it is, lest the entire castle know."

"Alright," Edmund said, pulling open the doors. "Be careful."

"I will."

The rest of the day was spent searching the castle from top to bottom. It took a long time and well into the night Peter walked past the Great Hall the clang of metal on metal made him pause. Fae and Bubblefuffin were in there still, candles and torches dimly lighting the huge room. They were sparring in a quick and heated match, both dripping with sweat. Peter could tell what she was setting up for, mostly because he'd done it so many times himself. Soon the clatter of steel hitting stone rang out through the hall, a moment later; a gleeful cry and a single person clapping.

"Well done, Princess."

"Thank you." Her voice was breathless and faint. "We can go now Ximon."

There was more clattering, this time the clatter of hooves on cobblestone. A few minutes later the dwarf left the room by the door Peter was eavesdropping from. He jumped at the sight of the King and then grinned.

"Did you see that, Sire?"

"Indeed I did. You are a splendid teacher Bubblefuffin."

"Perhaps, but the good quality of the student doesn't make teaching any harder than need be."

"Yes..."

"She's been working on that move all day long. Plumb refused to rest until she got it. She's fought all of her guards too, just to give me a rest. It's been a regular tourney in here, Sire." Peter smiled distractedly.

"Yes...You're doing a fine job Bubblefuffin, thank you so much for your help. Good night." With that he abruptly left. Walking by her room, he paused. There were two guards stationed outside her doors, just as he'd ordered. He knew there was another one in the room. He raised his hand to knock on the ornately carved door; then stopped. The two guards looked at him questioningly.

"Keep up the good work men." He said before he disappeared down the hall. The two guards looked at each other.

"Kings..."


	10. 14

**Author's Note: **Sorry folks, I was sick and then I had a huge ¼ of my grade speech that I was behind on and now I'm here! I really didn't mean to be gone so long, honest! Thanks to my reviewers, sorry I didn't get to reply to you guys! The ball's coming up! I'm so excited!

**Chapter 20**

_In Which Fae Has More Than One Confrontation and Prepares for a Ball_

"Wake up! Wake up!" Fae was bounced out of her deep sleep by a shrieking Lucy.

"Why?" she asked groggily, trying to focus her eyes on Lucy's ever moving figure.

"It's snowing! It's snowing! The snow dance is tonight! And only a day until the ball! How fun...Hurry and get up!"

"It really is fun." A masculine voice said, making Fae snap her sheets close to her body before she relaxed, realizing it was Tumnus. The Faun stood near the door, wrapped in a warm cloak and holding a lighted torch.

"Come on!" Lucy said impatiently, grabbing Fae's hand and pulling her off the bed as she leapt off.

"AH!" cried Fae as she struggled to stay on the bed and not on the floor. Lucy turned around and gave her an exasperated look, crossing her arms and tapping her foot impatiently.

"Fine!" Fae cried, throwing up her arms in surrender. They determined a meeting place so everyone could walk to the Dancing Lawn together. Fae got up and shooed her guard for the night out of the room before she dressed quickly. She emerged from her room dressed warmly, her sword hanging around her waist and rushed to the meeting place in a side entrance to the castle. The royal family, excluding Lucy, was waiting under the stone archway, the boys holding torches, all dressed warmly. Moments later Tumnus and Lucy joined them with dazed Kiran. Since they were the last two to arrive, Fae and Kiran walked together, chatting amiably, unaware of Peter's keen gaze frequently turning back on them as they walked. Susan dropped back to join them, and soon it was Kiran and she that did the talking, Fae walking slightly behind them, silently admiring the beauty of a frozen Narnia.

Snow in Narnia is beautiful, even more so when one knows it will melt. The sky was rosy with reflected light of dozens of fires that encircled the flat open field that was called the Dancing Lawn. Trees woke as the monarchs and their friends walked past them. By the time the group reached the Dancing Lawn their number had tripled with the Dryads who'd joined them, all wearing shimmering clothes of silvery white, all singing and dancing and yelling. Fae had been swept up by them and as soon as the Dancing Lawn was reached, was pulled into the circle of dancers who were already there. There were Fauns and Satyrs and more Dryads spinning around in circles around a huge bonfire in the middle. The snow fell fast and hard, and so was the dance Fae was hijacked into. The pounding of feet and of hooves was in time to the sound of drums. Later Fae saw that there were dwarves sitting next to the fires pounding out steady rhythms and the snow kept falling, almost in time to the drum beats. Fae withdrew from the circle after several different dances, none of which she'd learned recently, breathing heavily and sweating. She withdrew to sit on a log that was further away from the fire that the others. She searched for her friends and found Susan and Kiran walking outside the circle of firelight, hand in hand. She smiled to herself, for recently Susan had admitted to her that she thought she had feelings for Kiran.

She wasn't the only one who'd noticed the two. On the other side of the lawn, Peter watched his little sister and the foreign youth walk about and was incensed. He couldn't believe Kiran's audacity of traipsing about with any girl he set his fancy on. And with Peter's own sister too! He had a sudden realization and he searched the circle for Fae, hoping that she didn't see the youth who she loved with another woman. His eyes found her sitting on a log, snow collecting on the shoulders of her cloak, gazing at the dancers with a smile. He looked for Susan and Kiran, to make sure they weren't heading towards her. He shifted his gaze from the couple back to Fae. Except she wasn't there.

Fae had gotten up when she saw the couple wandering her way, not wanting to interrupt them and turned into the nearby forest for a short walk. The snow had begun to stick to the ground, and her boots squeaked as she walked through it. There is something about the rapture of a frozen forest at night, and if you ever have a chance to walk through one, seize the opportunity; it is truly a sight to behold. Try not to do it alone though for, as Fae found out, it can be very dangerous.

"Hello Princess," a liquid voice behind her snarled. Fae spun around to see a woman with very short, jagged, dark hair skulking up to her. Fae withdrew her sword and stepped back, looking around fearfully for help.

"Put it away, child. You and I both know you can't use it." Fae didn't say anything, her eyes huge. She kept backing up until she ran into a tree. She opened her mouth and screamed just as a shimmer of light shot out from the woman's fingers. Fae saw it coming and ducked just in time. The light hit the tree and a dark, oily looking substance oozed from a gaping hole in the trunk. The tree shuddered visibly.

"Who are you?" Fae asked, trying not to let her voice tremble.

"I am Lakshmi, Lady of the Lone Islands, soon to be Empress of Terebinthia." The woman straightened and the crest on her tattered tunic blazed in the darkness. Fae gasped again, seeing that it was the same insignia that her attackers wore.

"You're the one who tried to kill me..." She whispered, her sword faltering.

"Correction: who's going to kill you, and I won't be kind and not use my magic this time. This time I will take no chances." The woman stated, pacing back and forth before her quarry.

"What a shame, all those Terebinthian dogs getting hopeful for nothing. This will certainly crush their spirits." A movement behind Lakshmi caught Fae's eye and her mind began to work double time as she tried to stall.

"I thought you were locked up."

"Yes, but magic melts steel bars and crushes stone. It was fairly simple to get out."

"So why didn't you come after me sooner? It's been weeks and weeks."

"Didn't you tell her, little king?" Lakshmi said, turning slightly to see Peter, his sword Rhindon withdrawn, walking stealthily towards her. His sword wavered in his hand and his face fell. Fae bit her lip in dismay after her only hope was discovered and then looked at Peter quizzically.

"Tell me what?"

"That I disappeared from the pit they had me in two days ago. Since then I have been watching, waiting. Now then, I've got some work to finish."

"Fae! Look out!" Peter's voice rang though the woods. Another brighter shimmer of light was heading towards her. She gasped and her sword pulled her forward to block and absorb the magic. Fae and Lakshmi both yelped, one in shock and the other in pain. The sword was molten steel in Fae's bare hand although the tip of it had seemingly inhaled the magic blast and it was glowing in the darkness. Lakshmi got over her shock and sent another magic blast at her. Fae blocked it and again the magic was absorbed. Fae cried out, but hung on to it tight, she couldn't have let go if she wanted to. A horrid, burning sensation began creeping up her arms. Lakshmi hurled a ball of magic at her and the sword made Fae swing it so its flat side caught the magic, which reflected off it and shot back at Lakshmi. The woman screamed when it hit her and a moment later all that was left of her was a hissing, black puddle in the snow. Fae dropped her sword with a clatter and stepped back, collapsing against the wounded tree for support. Peter was there in seconds, reaching out for her.

"Are you alright?" he gasped, taking her into his arms. She stayed there, steadying herself against the warmth of his chest. He repeated the question into her hair, his voice trembling. She nodded; then shook her head, then examined her hands in amazement. The skin, which she'd expected to be black and dead, was whole and well; pink and stinging from the cold.

"It hurt so badly. I thought for sure the sword burned me." She pushed away from him and picked up her sword tentatively. It didn't hurt her, though the steel was warm on her skin. The glow was gone, but the ground where it had laid was steaming and there was no snow where it had been. Fae held it aloft, examining it in the pale light. Water dripped off it and ran over her shaking hand. She wiped it off and sheathed it.

"How did you know?" She asked, looking at him with wide eyes.

"I noticed you were gone and decided to look for you."

"I'm glad you did."

They headed back towards the Dancing Lawn quietly, almost awkwardly. As they neared the lawn, he noticed a peculiar look on her face.

"What the matter?" He asked looking around. When his eyes saw Kiran and Susan not one hundred feet from then, he cried out in dismay.

"What?" Fae asked, the odd smile vanishing from her lips.

"You weren't supposed to see them together! Oh Fae, I'm so sorry...I know you have feelings for him..."

"For who...For Kiran?" She asked; shock crossing her face.

"You thought I was in love with Kiran..." she trailed off, amazement in all her features.

"You're not in love with him?" Peter asked, equally amazed. Fae pressed a hand against her mouth.

"You thought...Oh my...Oh Peter..." Realization had been dawning on Peter's face and now he looked thoroughly embarrassed and rather contrite.

"Fae...I've treated you so horribly..."

"You poor thing! Worrying so about me finding out about your sister and Kiran! Trying to protect me...!" She cried.

"I'm so sorry!" Peter said, grabbing her hand. "I've acted so beastly towards you...Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?"

"Of course I can!"

"Just like that?"

"You're one of my dearest friends; I could no more refuse oxygen or food." She smiled a brilliant smile and took his arm. They walked to a log near a fire and were soon given hot chocolate and some roasted chestnuts.

"So, you really don't love him?" he asked, taking a sip of his cocoa.

"No more than the love I would share with a brother." She replied, blowing on a chestnut before popping it into her mouth.

"Then who do you love?" The question crossed his lips before he could stop it. Fae choked on her chestnut and stood up. Peter slapped his hand to his forehead in dismay.

"I'm sorry Fae, I don't know wha..." Fae shook her head and took a step back when he tried to reach for her.

"You're such a boy..." She muttered before she turned and ran away, getting swallowed up by the group of dancers. Peter sank back down to the log and shook his head, cursing his gracelessness.

"I'm telling you, Susan, I don't have a white dress."

"Just look, would you? I'm sure you've got something."

It was the afternoon the next day; everyone had slept the morning away. Everyone but Fae and Peter that is. Both had slipped back to the castle unnoticed and had woken up early. Now the entire castle was in mad preparation for the upcoming ball. Susan had stopped by to see Fae's dress and to tell her about her evening with Kiran. She had been mortified to find that her friend wasn't going to the ball because she didn't have a customary white dress. Now she was walking over to Fae's wardrobe and opening it.

"Susan!" Fae cried in dismay, then, "Susan..." was whispered in incredulity.

The young queen had flung open the wardrobe and its contents made everyone in the room gasp. The wardrobe had only one dress in it, a shimmering, glittering gown that seemed to be made up entirely of gauzy starlight.

"Oh my..." Tillie whispered from behind Fae.

"What a dress, if I do say so myself, ma'am," her guard, a bear, said admiringly.

"I can't wear that!"

"Why ever not?" Susan asked in disbelief.

"It's too beautiful. You wear it Su, it matches you perfectly."

It was here that Susan had a rare moment in Narnia. Though when she went back to our world she acted like this all the time, it was unusual for her to be selfish in Narnia. She seized the dress in a frenzy and commanded the guard to go outside while she tried it on. Things did not go as she planned, however, for although she was slender, she was also well endowed. No matter how hard she tried, the gown wouldn't fit.

"Perhaps we can have it altered," Fae said. Susan's eyes were bright with jealousy when she replied.

"There's no time for that now. You wear it, it seems made for you." Susan said, throwing the gown at Fae which sent spangles

light all over the room. Tillie side stepped in front of Susan, putting herself between the angry queen and Fae.

"My queen," she started with a curtsy, "it grows late and your Highness isn't even dressed for the ball. Thank you for your assistance

in finding the Princess a gown. We never could have done it without you." By the time she'd finished speaking; Tillie had led Susan to the door. Susan looked slightly bewildered, but left the room without a fuss. Fae fell back onto her bed.

"What would I ever do without you Tillie darling?"

"I have often wondered." Tillie replied tartly, but with a grin. "Would you like me to draw a bath now?"

"No, I've already taken one today. You go and do something fun."

"When do you want me back?"

"When you want to be back. Have fun." Tillie slipped out of the room and gave the bear outside the door strict orders not to go in unless the princess called for him.

Fae lay back on her bed, dreading the thought of the ball. Susan had just dashed her plan of avoidance to little pieces. She glared at the wardrobe, cursing its magical ability to provide whatever was desired as far as clothing went. It was a good idea for a guest room, especially an unexpected guest, but this wasn't a day for good ideas. She dreaded (and, truth be told, anticipated) seeing Peter again. She knew it would be awkward, but was more fearful of her feelings for him. She had spent several nights laying awake, contemplating him and a future with him and had gotten no where.

"Oh Aslan...show me what to do. Let him be my guide..." She whispered before she drifted off into an over due sleep.

"Princess..." Tillie's lilting voice stirred her. Fae squinted, for bright setting sunlight was shining through her window.

"Oh no! What time is it?"

"You have a little less than two hours until the ball begins," Tillie said, pulling her up by the arms. "Come now, time to get ready."

Fae groaned but did as Tillie said. The next few hours were spent in preparation: hair dressing, dressing (which took awhile because Fae didn't quite understand the gown as Susan had), and re-hair dressing because Fae's hair had become dreadfully mused during the putting on of the dress. By the time she was ready the ball had been going on for nearly a half an hour.

"Did you want me to help you undress afterwards?" Tillie asked as the two made their way to the ballroom, flanked by a centaur guard.

"No, no. You get some rest. I'll be fine on my own."

"Have fun milady."

"I will if you will."

Tillie melted away as the doors to the ballroom were opened and trumpets sounded. A second later Fae was being escorted down a staircase by Siddeus the elm man and the room stopped in their movements to see the Princess.


	11. 15

**Author's Note:** I'm running low on ideas people! This a big ol' problem that I have yet to find a nice answer to, so any ideas whatsoever are welcomed and blessed. Thanks to my reviewers: Mrs. St. John Allerdyce, EnamoradaConDios, brezzybrez, musafa, and Raine Ishida. You guys make my world smile! Enjoy the ball:D

**Chapter 21**

_In Which There Is a Ball and Several People Become Confused_

Peter stopped in the middle of a sentence when Fae entered the ballroom, as did most of the people who saw her, whether because of her dress or because of her person, no one quite knew.

"What a beautiful dress," murmured the Archenlander duchess he'd been speaking with.

"Yes..." he said distractedly, "If you'll excuse me..." He walked to Fae like a man in a trance. Before he reached her, however, several others did. She was dancing in the arms of a Faun before Peter had crossed the room. When he saw her dancing he stopped dejectedly and walked back to the edge of the dance floor.

"She dances beautifully, no?" A soft voice asked from behind him. He spun around in surprise; Barrmarre, the Dryad dancer, was smiling behind him.

"She is one of my best pupils," continued the Dryad. "She has old Narnian blood in her, your Highness; that of ancient kings and queens."

"And what would you be trying to say, Mistress Barrmarre?"

"Nothing! Majesty, you have me all wrong. I was just trying to make conversation with an old pupil."

"It wasn't that long ago."

"Long enough for me to see your dancing get sloppy again, if you don't mind my saying so, High King."

"Sloppy, eh?"

"Quite so; this song, for instance, Your Highness used to execute this dance beautifully. Now do ask me to dance so I can show you how it is ought to be done."

Peter obeyed the Dryad meekly and led her out to the dance floor. He was a much better dancer than his old teacher had let on and showed it marvelously. The two danced several times before she declared him adequate and was whisked away by her husband. Peter slipped off the dance floor and looked around for Fae. He spotted her laughing at something a handsome river god had said to her before trumpets sounded and took his attention to the grand staircase. Susan was announced with her full title and when she entered the room there was a collective gasp. Peter gaped, almost in horror. She wore an ermine trimmed white gown studded all over diamonds. A tall silver crown covered with crystal and more diamonds sent dazzling light all over the ballroom. Her sapphire eyes glittered and her smile on too-red lips wasn't real. The sound of glass shattering on the marble floor brought the room back to life. Peter searched to find the source of the crash until his eyes found Edmund trying to clean up shards of glass in a puddle of red currant wine. The realization then hit Peter like a ton of bricks: Susan almost resembled the White Witch. Peter shuddered and made his way towards his sister. For better or worse, Lucy got there first.

"Susan! What are you wearing?"

"A dress, you goose."

"It's awfully big." Lucy said with a wrinkle of her nose.

"She's right Su, it's a bit extravagant." Peter said, walking up behind Lucy. Susan sniffed.

"I don't see what's wrong with it. And besides, they seem to like it." She nodded primly at the group of men that had left their dancing partners to ogle at the lovely queen. Peter rolled his eyes.

"Use better judgment next time, alright?"

Susan barely heard him as she searched the crowd of approaching faces for Kiran's. Peter shook his head and dragged Lucy off. The brother and sister shared a short dance before Tumnus stepped in and whisked her away. Peter tried to slip away to a little balcony overlooking the sea. It took him several conversations and a spin on the dance floor, but he made it. He passed through the door unnoticed. He paused in the alcove before the balcony, letting the wind wash over him. The cold air felt good on his face after being in the overly warm ballroom. He leaned the railing and stared down at the black, churning water.

"It's going to start snowing soon." A soft voice stirred him from his thoughts. He spun around to see Fae leaning against the doorframe, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"The party's in there." He said, pointing at the crowded ballroom. She shrugged and the breeze pulled at her hair and skirts.

"I was abandoned by my dance partner," she spoke as she leaned on the railing and spread her arms wide to hug the cold wind.

"You? Abandoned?"

"Well, he became disinterested when Susan came in and I decided to let him have a chance at dancing with a real Queen."

"How kind of you to let him join the other droves of young men with broken hearts."

"He's the sort who'd get over fast," was her careless reply as she leaned further over the railing, staring defiantly at the rolling waves beneath her.

"Did you ever want to fly?" She asked, looking at him over her extended arm.

"You're going to catch cold out here." He said lightly, taking off his cape and wrapping it around her shoulders. When his hands lingered on her arms she spun around and took a step back. Her high heeled slipper (wardrobes aren't as good at providing magical shoes as fairy godmothers) gave out on her and she stumbled. He reached out and grabbed her flailing arm and steadied her. The wind stilled and he drew her closer to him. He took her hands in his and spoke contritely:

"Fae, I'd like to apologize for everything...Again. I want to ask you for your forgiveness." Fae smiled a little half smile and squeezed his hands.

"All is forgiven and forgotten."

"So easily?"

"Of course! You're one of my dearest friends. And I've had to be forgiven so much in the past...How could I deny you the same grace?"

Peter smiled and impulsively pulled her into a hug. The warmth of his arms around her body shook her insides. She breathed in the smell that had captivated her mind right before going unconscious a few months earlier and had lingered in her memory ever since. She felt his warm breath on her hair and shivered from the deliciousness of it. She lifted her face from his chest to look at him and her heart skipped a beat when they locked eyes. They started to sway to the stifled music from inside and soon they danced a dance taught by the same teacher. It was a slow, intense song and their movements matched. Their eyes never broke contact and that only intensified the whole thing. Her skirts swirled like water around their ankles and between the wind and the music they were swept away into an unreachable world. When the last, piercing note died they stopped and their breath intermingled and froze in the air between them. The music inside changed to a lively folksong, but neither seemed to notice. The fervor in their locked eyes never faltered, not even when he started to lean into her:

"My shoe broke," she whispered, ducking out of his arms and breaking the moment. She limped over to a stone bench and sat down (the snow was the blasted powdery stuff that blows away with the wind) to examine her shoe more closely. To her dismay, the heel had broken completely off when she tripped what seemed to be hours ago. She removed the other slipper and tried to break its heel off without any success.

"Here." Peter said, taking it from her and easily snapping the heel off.

"Thanks," she said taking back her shoe and slipping it onto her foot. They stood in awkward silence for several minutes, Peter fiddling with the satin covered heel of her slipper.

"We should go back." Peter finally said.

"Yes...they'll be missing you," she replied with a nod.

As soon as they entered the room both were whisked away. Fae was grabbed by Susan, who was desperate for relief from her admirers, and paraded about. Fae spent the rest of the evening dancing in many a man's arms, though she was distracted and vague. Some noticed the cape she wore, for it was obviously a man's cape, but not all the men had worn capes to the ball, so no one knew who it came from. The older Narnians vaguely remembered stories from the past about a woman wearing a man's mantle being a sign of engagement, but those were just stories. The younger Narnians only saw that the Terebinthian princess wore a beautiful blue velvet cape that set off her dress marvelously and several of the female sect became jealous.

Peter was sucked up by company that perhaps equaled in tediousness but was not anywhere near as flamboyant as the young nobles Susan introduced Fae to. Peter was forced to listen to several Council members expand about the over indulgence that balls and feasts were and couldn't something be done about some of the extravagancies, namely the Queen Susan's gown. Peter had to defend many a thing and it was very late when he got away from them with the help of Edmund who broke in a rushed him away to a fake emergency.

"Thanks Ed." Peter said, collapsing against a wall in a little nook that was curtained off from the ballroom for privacy. "I was about to go batty."

"Not that you don't have any experience in that area."

"Real funny," Peter muttered, peeking out of the curtain in a search for Fae.

"Who're you looking for?" Edmund asked, peering over his brother's shoulder.

"No one," Peter replied, craning his neck.

"Fae left about a half an hour ago." Peter stood straight up and his head knocked into Edmunds.

"Ow!" They both cried.

"Looking for no one, eh?" Edmund asked with raised eyebrows.

"You don't have to be so loud about it."

"So you made up with her then?"

"And, I think, succeeded in offending her during the same dance."

"You work fast."

"Aye..."

"Was she wearing your cape, or was I just seeing things?" Peter didn't say anything. Edmund smiled.

"Do you love her then?"

"I don't know...Everything's just so...awkward now. I don't know what to do Ed."

"You'll figure it out, Big Brother," Edmund said, patting Peter on the back, "And if you don't, she's heading to Terebinthia come springtime, so you'll only have to deal with her until then."

Peter punched his brother's arm very hard before he swept out of the alcove.

"Back so soon milady?"

"You weren't supposed to stay and wait up for me." Fae admonished, though she was thankful for her friend and maid.

"What a beautiful cape," Tillie said, brushing aside the comment as she removed the garment from her mistress' shoulders.

"It is..." Fae said, taking it from Tillie's hands and laying it on the bed. "Help me out of this gown, would you?"

"Of course."

Once she had changed into her nightgown Tillie turned back the bed clothes while Fae idly brushed her hair. It had grown out quite a bit since her injury and she hoped that by Christmas she'd be able to put it up. But that's not where her mind was.

"Tillie?"

"Yes milady?" Tillie said turning from the bed and walking to Fae.

"Do you thi---Never mind. Will you stay with me until my guard arrives?"

"Of course."

"Come and sit by me while we wait." Fae said, plopping into a plump chair next to her bed.

"I really shouldn't."

"Nonsense! Besides, I'm ordering you to."

"Well..."

"Please?"

"Alright." The two settled down and sat in companionable silence for a few minutes.

"Tillie..."

"Yes Princess?"

Fae opened her mouth and then closed it again. She leaned back against her chair and stared at the ceiling. Tillie looked up to see what her mistress was staring at, but failing to see anything, looked back down at her hands. They sat like that for a long time, neither one saying anything. After a while, Tillie cocked her head to one side.

"Princess, your guard is here." A second later there was a knock on the door.

"May I come in, Princess? It's Helmont, your guard for tonight." Fae looked at Tillie with what would have been amazement, had she not been so tired and confused.

"Don't ask, Princess. Shall I let him in?" Fae nodded, standing slipping beneath the drawn covers of her bed. "Goodnight Tillie, sweet dreams."

"May Aslan protect you in sleep as he does in wakefulness." Tillie said, curtsying before she went to the door and let Helmont in.

Fae didn't sleep much that night. While Helmont practiced his swordplay in front of her fire, she wrapped herself in a blanket and sat in her window seat, watching the wind blow. She saw the first snowflakes that started to fall in the wee hours of the morning. She thought back to Peter and their encounter on the balcony. She almost felt his arms around her, the strength in them when he dipped her, the gentleness he'd spun her with. In the dark she shivered remembering his smoldering eyes. She couldn't say why she'd pulled away from him. She had wanted, even longed for, the kiss that waited for her on his lips. But something had held her back. She had thought it was fear; fear that she would fall in love and then have to leave. But now she wasn't so sure. She fell asleep on the window seat, her thought swirling around like the tempest water stirred by the howling wind. When she woke up a pillow was beneath her head and another, heavier blanket thrown over her. The first sight her eyes took in was a Narnian winter wonderland, sparkling and white, with snowflakes falling through sunlight. She murmured praise to Aslan for the beauty of the world he created and turned to thank Helmont for the blanket and pillow. Her guard wasn't there.


	12. 16

**Author's Note: **Sorry guys, first I lost my notebook that has everything for this story and then some in it, then my floppy disk died and I lost the version of this chapter I was working (and almost through) with and one of my friends borrowed my huge, seven books in one, Chronicles of Narnia book and thus I'm pretty much drained. Sorry. Anyway, I've found a new disk, tried to remember as much as I could and hopefully this chapter isn't as awful as I think it is. Thanks to: Ava Rainna, Raine Ishida, brezzybrez, and to our newbie: mauradersminuspeterarehot. Have a great weekend guys!

**Chapter 22**

_In Which Helmont Is Found and Peter Is Disturbed_

Peter paced back and forth, his untied robe fluttering behind him as he walked. He was in a small study adjoining to his bedroom, unable to sleep, barely able to think. He'd had a dream that woke him just as the sun started to shine through the falling snowflakes and had left his mind reeling. Only in Narnia, was his first waking thought; in reference to snow falling with the sun shone brightly. Then he remembered the dream. Except, it really hadn't been a dream, one forgot dreams. What he'd seen in his sleep that night became clearer every time he thought on it. He shook when he remembered the words spoken to him, though the words were not meant to invoke fear. He knew they were supposed to be happy, yet he could not bring himself to feel anything but trepidation. His thought process was broken by a loud knock, followed by a softer, almost apologetic rap. His whirling mind came to a screeching halt when he opened the door and saw who was behind it. Fae was in her long night gown and her hair was still tousled from sleep, though she did have her sword with her. The sight of her sent him to questioning his dream all over again before she jerked him back to reality by speaking.

"Helmont's gone," she said and at his confused look she gave him details. "He was my guard for the night. He was there when I fell asleep, but when I woke up he was no where to be seen."

"And his replacement hasn't come yet?" Peter asked, peering over her shoulder, hoping she hadn't come alone. She had.

"No, the replacement doesn't come until ten o'clock or so. Peter, something must have happened. He would never have left me alone..." Fae looked at him desperately, fear for her guardian clouding her eyes.

"When did you wake up?" Peter asked shaking the fog from his mind and gently drawing her into his foyer.

"Just a few minutes ago, Peter, I didn't know what to do, so I came here. I'm sorry for waking you up..." He smiled, a little wryly but mostly tiredly:

"Don't worry about it. I've been awake for awhile."

"What are we going to do?" She asked, pretending to ignore the shadow that crossed his eyes when he mentioned how long he had been awake. He spoke as he further drew her into his apartments and motioned for her to be seated.

"Do you remember what time you fell asleep last night?"

"It was probably around three-thirty." Peter raised his eyebrows realizing she'd stayed up after she left the ball.

They determined that Helmont had went missing between three and seven o'clock in the morning and that they both ought to get dressed before looking for him. Peter said after they dressed they would go he would go to the head of the guards and organize a search party. After he dressed he and Fae walked wordlessly to her room. He noticed her glancing at him out of the corner of her eye as they walked. He knew he was acting strange and out of character, but he offered her no reassurance. He couldn't. He would tell her and his family about the dream in due time. He waited for her to dress outside her room. When he looked back on the day, he remembered the funny feeling in his stomach when she entered the room alone, but in the moment he was too distracted by his dream to pay attention. It was an action he would curse himself for for years.

He was leaning against the door frame, mulling over his dream, when he heard a sharp cry from the room within. He called her name and when the only response was the unmistakable sound of metal on metal as a sword was drawn he burst into the room. He entered just as Fae swung her sword in a great silver arc at the arched body of a huge cobra. Another beheaded snake lay squirming at her feet, blood spurting from the body and staining the hem of her thin white shift. She was as white as the snow outside as Peter started to go to her.

"Don't move," she cautioned in a shaky voice, "there were three."

Peter froze and watched her as she slowly turned in a circle. The blood from the snakes ran over the cross guard of her sword and dripped onto her fingers, but she paid no attention as her fear sharpened eyes scanned the room. They saw the third snake at the same time. It was twice the size of the other snakes and had mesmerizing green eyes that seemed to pull you in. Peter had the sense to look away, but Fae was enchanted. The beast was wrapped around one of the posts of her four poster bed and had locked eyes with her. The frightened girl cocked her head, dropped her sword, and began walking towards the snake.

"Fae don't! Fae!" Peter yelled at her, but his cries fell on deaf ears. In one quick motion he drew his dagger from his boot and threw it right past her head, pinning the snake between the eyes to the post with a sickening thump. Fae snapped out of her trance and collapsed on the floor. Peter stepped over her and pulled his dagger from the snake and let the corpse slither to the floor next to Fae. He bent down and wiped the dagger on the ruined carpet before replacing it and going to her side. Her face was in her blood covered hands and her whole body seemed to be shaking, yet she was not crying. He knelt down beside her and took the trembling fingers.

"Are you alright?" She nodded. "Are you hurt?" She shook her head. He squeezed her hands and took his handkerchief from his pocket and awkwardly began wiping away the blood that had been transferred from her hands to her face and then wiped her hands. She sat like a little child, not responding to his administrations. She allowed him to wrap her in his cloak which he found lying amongst a pillow and some blankets on the window seat. She allowed herself to be led from the room, his arm around her, his voice soothing her and calming her. When he deposited her in a chair in the hallway she longed to cling to him, but couldn't summon the strength into her arms.

He pressed a hidden button on the wall several yards away and within moments a battalion of about a dozen or so castle guards filled the hallway. Peter commanded them easily, assigning four to go look for Helmont, sending one for Tillie the Faun, sending three to examine Fae's room, etcetera. In a few minutes Tillie was there out of nowhere, taking over control of Fae, wrapping her tighter in the cloak, tsking her tongue at the state of undress her mistress was in. Peter came over to them after a while and told Tillie to take Fae to an empty room down the hall, closer to his own apartments. Fae looked over her shoulder and caught his eye as she was led wordlessly away. He didn't smile, just stared at her his dream looming in his mind and she was pulled away.

Tillie took Fae to the room Peter had named and a hot bath was drawn for her. Special oils and salts were poured into it to relax and calm her. Fae gladly stepped into it, allowing the hot water to soothe away the horrors of the morning. Outside the bathroom a guard was posted, and outside the doors to the room two more stood at attention. Once she was finished with her bath and dressed and deposited in a soft chair by the roaring fire, Dr. Ranjit was called to the room. As he examined her, she found it harder and harder to stay awake in the drowsy heat and gratefully accepted a steaming cup of what she recognized as Silver Apple juice, diluted with something that had a heavy, musty sort of taste. Dr. Ranjit had her put in bed and she fell asleep before her head hit the pillow. Tillie fussed about the room, ordering a legion of maids to retrieve items and clothing from Fae's room to be transferred to the new room. Another guard reported to the room so there were two inside and two outside by order of the High King. Fae slept on, unaware of everything going on around her.

Meanwhile, Peter was talking with the lieutenant of the battalion, a centaur named Ezio. It turned out that the snakes were Calormene cobras, very deadly and very rare. The bodies had been disposed of and Peter was explaining to a torrent of maids that they couldn't go into the room just yet and to please let his men do their job when a very bedraggled, limping Helmont appeared, behind him two of his comrades holding a struggling man in black.

"Helmont!" Peter cried with relief. "What in the world...?"

"My King," Helmont bowed with a flourish, "I have brought to you the would-be assassin of the Princess."

"What?"

Helmont explained himself, but there were several more flourishes and so many questions that I'll explain what he explained but in much less time. Helmont had heard a noise in the hall and went to investigate it. A suit of armor had fallen down the hall, and Helmont being Helmont had become distracted by the fine metal work, particularly the sword. When he remembered his duty he turned and saw someone in black slipping out of the Princess's room. He called out and then ran after the intruder. When Peter asked the time of the encounter, Helmont said a little earlier than seven o'clock. Peter surmised that the call Helmont made had stirred Fae from sleep and when she'd realized that Helmont was gone the bobcat had already become involved in a duel with the man in black. Helmont was nearly done for when two of the guards Peter had sent found him and assisted him. Peter asked to speak with the man and at Helmont's word a burly man with a thin mustache was hurled at his feet. Peter summoned up all his kingly majesty before regarding the man at his feet. He wore all black, from his tunic to his soft leather boots, even his hair was black. He had four bright red and bleeding slashes across his face that Peter could only imagine were from Helmont's sharp claws.

"Who are you?" Peter asked. The man said nothing, he didn't even look up. Peter addressed him again:

"Who are you?" Silence. "If you don't tell me now I'll see to it that you never see a soul in this world again. You will be locked in a cell five legions beneath the crust of the earth and the only thing that will ever speak to you will be the earthworms and roaches of the deep. Never will you see sunlight or moonlight or starlight. Never will you hear the song of a bird or the wind rustling through the trees, indeed the only sound you shall ever hear will be your own laughter as you slowly lose your mind. Who are you?"

The man before him looked up, fear in his eyes: "I am Acanthus Cyril, I—I am a snake charmer from the southern part of C-calormen."

"And those snakes were yours?" Peter asked, narrowing his eyes.

"No, milord, the man that hired me gave them to me to plant in the room."

"Who hired you?"

"Karstan Giles, a lord of the Lone Islands." Peter frowned, not recognizing the name.

"Do you know who you were trying to kill?" Acanthus shrugged.

"Some pretend Princess or something...She's planning on taking over the island of Terebinthia."

Peter closed his eyes and sighed.

"Take him away. Make sure he is guarded at all times, never left alone ever. I'll decide what to do with him later." He said to the lieutenant still standing at his side.

"At once sire."

The snake charmer was led away. Peter was reassured by several men that the room was free of snakes and thus allowed the maids outside the door to storm the room. Outside the castle was just beginning to stir after the late night. Edmund was outside the room, listening intently to Helmont's rendition of what happened. When he saw his brother he politely excused himself and went to Peter's side as he walked to his apartments.

"You look awful."

"Thank you very much, oh observant one."

"Is Fae alright?"

"I hope so. She seemed very shaken when I had Tillie take her away."

"So you both got over whatever happened last night?"

"There wasn't time to think...I hope she'll just forget."

"You don't look like you slept well," Edmund said, "Why don't you go grab a couple hundred forty winks and let me take care of things today? You look like you could use it."

"Thanks Ed..." Peter muttered distractedly. Edmund's comment had brought back his dream in full and he dreaded going back to sleep. "Um...Edmund?"

"Yeah?"

"Never mind. Thanks again."

Edmund looked after his brother quizzically as he opened the heavy, carved doors to his apartments. He thought his big brother desperately needed more sleep.


	13. 17

**Author's Note: **Hiya guys. You're gonna kill me. Sorry it's so short. I really am. My many thanks go to Ava Rainna, Raine Ishida, brezzybrez, EmoradaConDios, and mirauderminuspeterarehot, for their wonderful reviews. I deeply appreciate them, but if you want longer chapters, I'll need some more reviews, kapeesh?

**Chapter 23**

_In Which Fae Is Alright and Peter Tells His Dream_

When Fae woke up she didn't know where she was. Weak afternoon sunlight shone through the window and lazily stretched across a marble floor like a cat. Slowly her memory came back to her as she sat up and her head began reeling for the first time in weeks. She sat on the edge of the bed and closed her eyes until the sensation stopped. When she opened her eyes again she quickly took in her new surroundings. A large bed, closer to the floor than her other one, floor to ceiling windows that over looked the forest and beyond the forest the sea, the same sort of furniture as in her old room, but in different styles and periods. All of it was shades of gold and white instead of blue. She wondered briefly if the wardrobe was magic as well. Another scan of the room produced a door and inside it, two guards done up in fine livery. She sighed, realizing she would never have a moment alone now; which was especially disappointing news since Peter had almost been ready to allow her freedom again. She shook her head and stood up, finding that she was terribly hungry and deciding there would be one meal she'd attend that day.

"I'll be dressing now," she called to the guards, "if you wouldn't mind leaving for just a moment."

The guards shifted nervously and one of them, who she recognized, spoke to her.

"The High King says we're not to leave you alone." She paused at the wardrobe, regarding the two with narrowed eyes.

"You're joking."

"No, milady..." The guards were beginning to look very uncomfortable.

"Not even to get dressed?"

"No milady."

Fae pursed her lips and looked the two up and down. "There're more of you outside, isn't there?"

"Yes, milady."

"I'll be dressing in the bathroom. You may wait outside it if you so desire but you will not be joining me in there, is that perfectly clear?"

"Yes, milady." The

"Good. Now if you'll excuse me." She grabbed the first garment she laid her hands on and stocked into the bathroom, muttering under her breath.

She reappeared a few minutes later dressed in a grey dress trimmed in blue. It had long, wide sleeves that hung to her knees and trailed behind her as she walked. She didn't bother to sit down as she put on her heavy woolen stockings, and became even more infuriated when she fell over while trying to get them on. She finally threw the stockings aside and grabbed a pair of warm boots from the wardrobe and shoved her feet into them before strapping her sword around her waist and tossing a silver circlet from the vanity atop her head for good measure. The two guards watched her with wide eyes as did these things and took a moment to react when she strode past them and flung the doors to the room open. There were two more outside that quickly snapped to attention when she flew past. It took them a moment to react and it was only once the other two rushed out behind her did they get the picture. One guard remained to protect the room while she was gone, but the three followed her in a tizzy as she stormed down the hallway towards Peter's study.

Peter had just tackled the enormous stack of paper waiting for him on his desk. He'd spent the majority of his afternoon questioning Acanthus Cyril, much of it resulting in a headache. He'd found that the man had slipped into the Cair unnoticed when the guests had started arriving for the ball and he'd spent the past two days watching Fae. Peter came to the conclusion that there was more to the man than he was telling, but had left when further questioning had no results. He left very clear instructions to Cryil's guards that he was not to be left alone, ever.

He'd barely gotten started on the stack when Fae burst into the room. First he breathed a sigh of relief, seeing her well and with a sparkle in her eyes. And in noticing the (now he recognized it) angry spark, he groaned and knew that with a circlet atop her head she meant business. The guards he'd assigned her straggled in after her, one of them looked chagrinned and the other two seemed just plain confused. He smiled pleasantly and spoke as charmingly as he could muster:

"I see you're feeling better."

"Oh yes, I've seemed to make a splendid recovery, thanks so much for your concern," was her tart response. "However, that's not what I wanted to discuss."

"And what delightful issue did you want to discuss?"

"These..." she waved her hand at the guards. "I think I proved this morning that I am perfectly capable of protecting myself and that it is completely unnecessary for me to be guarded by more than one perfectly capable person. Having three perfectly capable, but bumbling idiots following me around everyday, not even letting me dress in alone is more than I can handle Peter." She finished her tirade by flopping down into the wing-backed before his desk and crossing her arms, suddenly exhausted while waiting for his response.

"You two," Peter said pointing at the guards nearest the door, "are assigned to your regular duties." The two hurried to leave the room. "You," he gestured to the guard nearest Fae, "are to stay with her at all times. She is really much nicer than she appears and she didn't mean what she said about you being a bumbling idiot, I promise. There is still a guard at her room, is there not?"

"Yes, Sire."

"He is to stay there outside her door, making sure the room is kept safe for the Princess. Does that suit you?" He asked, turning to look at an aghast Fae.

"So easily? You're not even going to argue?"

"I choose my battles carefully and this is not one I wish to fight." Peter said with raised eyebrows. "Is the arrangement to your liking?"

"Well, I'd much rather just have one guard whose sole purpose is protecting my room from intrudes, seeing as how I can take care of myself. However, it doesn't look like I have much choice in the issue, because you'll just do whatever you want anyway. So-"

"Oh good," Peter cut her off. "Will I be seeing you at dinner tonight then?"

Fae pursed her lips and nodded before sweeping grandly out of the room. She slammed the door behind her, and her long sleeve (which she'd forgotten about) got caught between the door and the frame. There was the sound of fabric ripping and Peter laughed out loud in spite of himself. The portion of her sleeve remained in his doorframe and the soft clicking of shoes on marble let him know she was going to leave it there.

"Do not laugh." He heard her fiercely order her guard from down the hall. He could see in his mind's eye the guard's face, a smile erased in a moment, and he laughed some more. It relieved some of the stresses on his mind to know that she was alright. If only the other stresses could be blotted out so easily.

After dinner the royal siblings, minus Peter, all arrived at Peter study at the same time. After the early morning issues, which Edmund was had just recently told the girls about, everyone was in a light mood. The three were laughing and teasing and babbling over nothing in particular. Edmund had settled down on the hearth of the fire, it heat warming his backside, while Susan was perched on the arm of the wing-backed chair Fae had inhabited earlier. Lucy was in Peter's desk chair, knowing full and well that she was the only one who could get away with it. When Peter walked in she was spinning it around and around and Susan was begging her to stop and Edmund was cheering her on. As soon as she saw the look on his face Lucy put both her feet down and the chair ceased its carousel-like rotations. Edmund and Susan both fell silent when they saw him, not understanding the sudden heaviness on his shoulders or the dullness in his eyes.

"Don't look at me like that," Peter chastised softly, managing a half smile. "I've happy news."

"What is it, Peter?" Lucy asked relinquishing his seat before plopping in his lap after he'd sat down. He wrapped his arms around her and gave the little girl a squeeze.

"I-I had a dream last night. And Aslan brought me to him-- he spoke to me."

"When are we leaving?" Edmund asked excitedly. Lucy looked up at him with eyes suddenly full of tears. Peter looked at Edmund then Lucy in confusion.

"What?"

"Well, Aslan came again, and when Aslan came again—Fae has to go back. We were going to g to Terebinthia too, right? " Lucy said. "I don't want Fae to go." Peter blinked, startled, before slowly shaking his head.

"No...Nothing like that. Aslan said he would actually come here, in person. This was just a dream."

"So what did he say?" Susan asked, sinking slowly from her perch down into the chair sideways.

"He said..." Peter bit his lower lip, trying to phrase it properly. "I want to you all to know this is for real, that it wasn't just a dream. Aslan was there, I felt his breath on my face. I remember too much of it for it to be just a dream."

"We believe you," Edmund said impatiently. "Would you just tell us?"

Peter still hadn't come up with a good way to break the news. He gave Lucy a squeeze.

"It's good news, so stopping looking so sour, okay?

"I--I'm getting married."

Three pairs of eyes stared at him in absolute, total shock.


	14. 18

**Author's Note: **I'm** SO** sorry guys. decided they didn't like me for the weekend, but I'm back! Oh,I would like to acknowledge Jean Ferris as the person who came up with the line "ripped a tear in the corner of his heart." I just altered it a little bit. Everyone should read _Once Upon a Marigold. _My undying gratitude goes to: Raine Ishida, Ava Rainna, EmoradaConDios, brezzybrez, musafa, mauradersminuspeterarehot, and kudos to the newest member of the sect: ilovenarnia. I hope I don't ruin you. Have a good weekend guys! You all make my mouth smile!

**Chapter 24**

_In Which Peter's Heart Is Torn, Literally_

Lucy was the first to break the silence.

"To who?"

"I don't know yet...Aslan said he'd tell me later."

"When?" Edmund asked. "You know, it could be years away. I mean, everyone here is bound to get married, eventually. Right?"

"Aslan didn't say. But I don't think he was telling me just because he wanted to."

"This is hogwash!" Susan cried, finally picking her jaw off the floor and thinking sensibly again, "treating a dream as if it were really real. Why, if I did that the rabbits would be running the country!"

"But Peter said it wasn't like a dream..." Lucy said. Peter nodded in agreement with Lucy.

"I tried to make out to be Su, honest I did. But it was too real, the colors, the sounds, I touched Aslan's mane and I felt his breath on my face. I was standing on top of a mountain, looking over all of Narnia and...He met me there. And you know how you forget dreams? I haven't. I still remember every little detail. Perfectly. It wasn't just a dream Susan. It has to be."

"But Peter..." Susan said, still trying to wrap her mind around it.

"I believe you." Lucy looked up at her big brother with crystal clear eyes. There was no trace of tears in them now, just simple acceptance. "You wouldn't make anything up."

Edmund stood and stuck his hand out to his brother. "Congratulations." He said with a strained smile. Peter gratefully clasped the offered hand and managed a smile too. Susan sat there, gazing at him with probing eyes. He seemed calm now that he'd told them. There was a peace and acceptance in his face that she didn't recognize as belonging to her brother. Finally she was convinced.

"If you say so..."

"I really do."

"Then I believe in you." Peter dislodged Lucy from his lap and stood and hugged Susan. The two had a bond, though not like the one he had with Lucy, his favorite sister. This one was stronger, derived from struggling to protect their family during the war and then during the beginning of their time in Narnia. She was the one that broke the embrace and started thinking sensibly again.

"I wonder who she is...She could be anyone, you know? Especially with all the people here left over from the ball. I do hope I like her."

Peter shrugged, "I'm trusting in Aslan that she'll be someone I'll like, and maybe learn to love." A vision of Fae flashed in his mind's eye and his new found peace faltered for a split second. As if she was reading his mind, Lucy was suddenly prompted to speak:

"What about Fae?" Susan and Edmund had the same awful realization hit them at the same time and both turned to Peter with concerned faces.

"Oh no..." Susan said, remembering her friend and the attachment Peter had to the girl.

"Peter," was all Edmund could muster, shaking his head. "Peter what are you going to do?"

"I...I am going to tell her soon. I wanted to tell you all first. Please, don't say anything to her about it."

"Be gentle," Susan reminded.

"But don't beat around the bush. That'll just make it worse," was Edmund's contribution.

"You should tell her now." Lucy spoke with a soft sort of authority that was far beyond her years.

The other two nodded in agreement. Peter blanched, breathing a harried prayer to Aslan for strength before nodding too. Susan and Lucy both hugged him again, and Edmund clasped his shoulder.

"Go now." Peter looked down at Lucy with disbelief, she removed her arms from his waist and planted stubborn fists on her hips.

"You're growing up..." The little girl just raised her eyebrows and nodded.

"Go!" He smiled and ruffled her hair, reminding himself that she would still be a child for several more years. She pursed her lips and gave him a shove towards the door. He nodded and left the room, an unusual feeling filling him from head to toe.

It took Fae a minute to answer her door. The one guard at her door from earlier in the day had been replaced, and the new one stood at attention with his hand on his sword. Peter nodded to him and the guard responded with a quick bow. As soon as he straightened he scanned the hallway, as if in the second he'd looked down a swarm of pestilent murders could've invaded the space. Satisfied the hall was empty, he relaxed again. Peter nodded to himself; a second guard could do no harm. When Fae came to the door he was very glad to see the she had simmered down some since storming out of his study earlier. In fact she looked quite contrite. She invited him in, and before he could open his mouth had apologized. Once he forgave her and the air was cleared he felt a little better, but not much.

He had interrupted her reading. A chair was pulled close to the fire and a lap blanket was lying on the floor. Her book was open on the edge of the arm of the chair, teetering hazardously. A cup of tea and a small teapot rested on the raised hearth stones. He decided from the wrinkles in her skirt that she'd had her legs tucked under her in the chair. The gold colours in the room and the soft firelight made him notice her complexion and the creaminess of her skin in way he hadn't before. She invited him to sit as she took up her seat, marking her spot in the book with the ribbon from her hair after a quick search produced nothing suitable. She looked at him silently, as if appraising him.

"What's the matter?" She finally asked, leaning forward and taking one of his hands. "You've been distracted all day, but I haven't really been able to ask..." She trailed off. He decided to tell her outright, but paused. He let go of her hand and firmly told the guard to step outside. When he turned back she was prying at him with her eyes. He felt as though he could get lost in those deep orbs without trying too terribly hard. And then he remembered his purpose in the room and stiffened. She noticed this and something cold and slimy seemed to coil up in her stomach.

"What is it?" Peter swallowed, even though his mouth and throat were both suddenly very dry.

"I'm to be married," he said carefully; the way he said the words let her know that it wouldb't be to her. Fae stared at him; he could see the words slowly sinking in. Then all at once, she fell back into her chair as if she'd been slapped. Her hands dropped to hide in the folds of her skirt and he could almost feel how she twisted the cloth and dug her nails into her palms. Her eyes closed and she breathed deeply for several minutes. Then she gave herself a little shake and opened her eyes.

"To whom?" She asked. Her voice was strained but she seemed to have regained her composure.

"I don't know."

"What?"

"I was told that part."

"Told?" She eyed him dubiously.

"Aslan brought me to him a dream last night. He's the one that told me."

"It was a dream?"

"Yes. But it wasn't just a dream. It was too real."

"Aslan didn't say who?"

"No."

"Did he say when?"

"No."

"How can you be so calm?" She burst out. "Aren't you afraid?"

"I was. But I trust Aslan. He wouldn't do something to harm me." She stared at him, not believing the peace that had infiltrated his entire being. She stood up abruptly and walked to a window, not wanting him to see her tears. He followed her, standing just behind her, laying his hands gently on her shoulders. He felt her stiffen at his touch, and then she turned and fell into his arms. He held her like that for a very long time. She didn't cry, though she took several deep, shuddering breaths. He held her with one hand on her back and the other stroking her hair. He lowered his face to rest on top of her head and after awhile kissed the crown of her hair gently. She pulled away from him as if she'd been stuck with a hot poker.

"No. You're not mine." Her voice was choked with emotion. "Save your kisses for the one they belong to." He tried to reach out to her again but she pulled away, hugging herself instead.

"Go," she whispered intensely, her eyes pleading with him. He stepped towards her, but she held out a hand, palm pressed towards him. "Just go...Please."

Her voice cracked on the last word and she turned from him again. He felt a numbing pain completely soak all his senses before he turned around and slowly walked out of the room. As soon as she heard the door click shut behind him, a heart broken sob escaped from her lips. She immediately stuffed a fist in her mouth to keep from letting out another cry, but it was too late. Peter had heard the cry from halfway down the hall. He stopped and his body shook, it was as if he felt someone a rip a large tear right in the corner of his heart. He ran the rest of the way to his apartments.

The two guards stared after him in bewilderment; both had heard the heart rending sob, and it was the sort of sob that made you want to cry out, just out of sheer human empathy. They stared at each other and one slowly turned and reentered the room. The Princess had thrown herself onto her bed and was crying as if her heart had broken right in two. Outside a storm had rolled in off the sea and thunder was clashing and snow was beating at the window pane. The poor guard stared at the young woman's prone form in dismay. He had never been able to stand seeing a female cry. He knew he was in for a very, very uncomfortable night.


	15. 19

**Author's Note: **So, I'm just realizing that I'm constantly apologizing to you guys for not updating on time...If anyone has time management skills, you should talk to me! Anyways, I was gone this weekend, sorry! My deepest thanks to: brezzybrez, Raine Ishida, EmoradaConDios, mauradersminuspeterarehot, ilovenarnia, and musafa for your reviews! They light up my day!

**Chapter 25**

_In Which There Are Dreams and Visits and Voices_

Peter opened his eyes and found he was in his pajamas, standing atop a mountain that overlooked all of Narnia. He could see the white tops of trees and the snow capped peaks of Mount Pyre in the distances, yet where he stood it seemed to be late spring, complete with green grass, wild flowers and a gurgling brook. He stood on a clearing and there was a stand of trees with new, bright leaves behind him. The ground was warm beneath his feet and the sun caressed his bare shoulders with tender rays. The balmy breeze ruffled his hair and sent a ripple through the springy grass at his feet, and tickling his nose with the delightful scents of upcoming summer. He looked about him in awe, not believing that such a place could exist while the rest of Narnia lay frozen miles below him. He wished Fae could see this place; it was the sort she'd just love. He closed his eyes and placed his hand on his heart, as if trying to stem the flow of pain that the thought of her brought forth. And then he felt a presence that eased the pain enough for him to open his eyes and lower his hand.

"My son..." Aslan stood just to his right, gazing at him with tender eyes. Peter fell to his knees, clasping Aslan's mane and pressing his forehead to his paws.

"Oh, Aslan..." He couldn't say anything else, just cling to the Great Lion and hope that he could read his thoughts.

"Rise, King of Narnia. I have news for you. Follow me." Peter did as he was told and Aslan led him into the stand of trees beyond the clearing. Peter followed silently and waited for Aslan to speak. It was a long time before the Great Lion speak and he spoke slowly and thoughtfully.

"I wish you could have a spring wedding, I'll wager you'd like that better. But there are some more important things on the agenda this spring and she can't wait...My son, you'll be married the evening of Christmas Day." Peter balked and stopped in his tracks. He felt as if all the air had been knocked from his lungs.

"But that's less than two weeks away! It's-" There was the beginning of a low growl in Aslan's throat. "Why Aslan?"

"Trust, Son of Adam. Have you yet to realize my plans are only for your good?" He looked at Peter for a long moment. "Come here"

Peter walked close and Aslan licked his forehead and breathed on him. The warm breath sent chills down Peter's spine, and the throbbing in his heart eased till he barely realized it was there, and then it vanished.

"Have faith. Trust in me. I will do nothing that goes against my plan for you." He gestured towards a large, moss covered rock in the middle of the meadow they stood in, "Go and sleep. I will be with you in the morning." And with a gust of warm wind he was gone. Peter walked to the smooth rock hesitantly and sat on it. The sun was warm and made him drowsy. He lay down and with in minutes he was asleep.

When he opened his eyes he was in his own bed. His skin still felt warm and his head had the dull ache that one gets from laying in the sun too long. Weak streams of sunlight were splayed over the floor and according to the clock it was just after seven in the morning.

Two days later Fae announced she was going to visit Anatolei the dragon. Lucy cried out in dismay, not wanting her friend to miss the pre-Christmas activities. Susan wanted to know when she would be back, a question Fae couldn't answer. Edmund wanted to know when she was leaving, for there was a storm brewing on the horizon, and protested loudly when she said as soon as possible. Peter was the only one who agreed with her, though he did not voice it. Their eyes caught over a platter of scrambled eggs, and he knew. He knew that it was the only way he could stand to get married. It was the only way they both could stand it.

She decided to leave the next day, eleven days before his wedding. Peter had announced his wedding date the morning after his dream and aside from her dropping her cup of cocoa and nearly burning a hole in her foot, Fae had done nothing. The only thing she knew was that she had to get out, to get away, and not come back until her heart mended. She didn't bring much; she knew that the magical wardrobe would provide for her anything that she needed. Peter still did everything he could to protect her, sending along two guards and Lysander the centaur. She left early in the morning, while it was still dark, flanked by the guards, with Lysander in the lead. Peter didn't see her off, yet she could feel his eyes on her from one of the hundreds of windows coating Cair Paravel. She fought the urge to look back as she rode through the fledgling city just outside the castle walls. When they reached the coast and the wet sand she gave let Kalyani run. The cold wind pulled her cape and hood away from her body, knotted her hair with nimble fingers, numbed her fingers through the gloves, and turned her lips blue, but she didn't feel its chilly hands grab at her. At one point she remembered thinking she should be shivering by now, but she wasn't, nor did she ever. Lysander caught up to her after a while, for even though he could have outpaced Kalyani easily he felt her need for privacy, and suggested they stop and let the horses rest.

It took them the rest of the day to get to Anatolei's caverns. The dragon was waiting for them, anxious and excited. Peter had sent Evereyes the eagle ahead of the party to giver her some warning, and also to let him know if and when she arrived safely, and she had prepared rooms and had a meal ready and waiting for them. Every so often she would disappear into her cave to check on the stew and then come out wiping her clawed fingers on a larger than life pink ruffled apron. If you could have seen her peering into the distance, twisting her apron, and wondering if she should add more basil to the stew, you would've thought she was and oversized, scaly, wife waiting for her husband to come back from a business trip. When she finally saw them round the bend before her home she waved and called out and laughed in delight. There was a cry from the eagle and in the twilight you could barely make him out as he careened up and into the air, flying back to Cair Paravel. Anatolei took good care of her guests, getting them warm and fed in record time, and sending them straight to bed when they started nodding off over their second helping of stew. She'd hired a Faun from a nearby glade to help with the horses and soon all was settled down and she was happy and very pleased when she finally retired to her quarters.

Fae spent her days at Anatolei's in a fog. She spent many mornings rambling over the seashore, picking up shells that the tide had brought in and adding them to a basket she'd spotted in the corner of her room or exploring the swampy forest that melded with the mountainside the dragon's cave was located in. She discovered a small island on an inlet of a river flowing into the sea and used an old row boat to explore it. She demanded that the guards stay on the opposite shore and not follow her to the island. She constantly wore her sword on her rambles and carried a slender steel whistle that she could blow if she was in danger. She had several good thinking sessions out there, secluded from the rest of the world. Those mornings healed her spirit considerably. She spent the rainy winter afternoons in the library or practicing swordplay with her guards or Lysander. She could best one of her guards and was close to besting the other, but was no match for the centaur. He taught her several things however, and after long hours of hard training, she could hold her own against him. Anatolei spent her time fretting over the young woman, thinking she wasn't dressed warm enough, wishing that she would eat more.

Eventually her worries and Fae's long rambles caught up to her. The day before Christmas Eve Fae started coughing and sneezing and by the evening Lysander pressed a hand to her forehead and declared she had a fever. Anatolei banished her to bed early. The next morning Fae was not allowed to get up and the dragon was constantly sending hot water bottles and broth and warm blankets in via Lysander or one of the guards. Fae was rather put out at all this, but didn't want to cross the dragon. Instead she endured it grimly during the day, reading the books she had in the pile next to her bed. But reading made her eyes hurt and she closed them and fell asleep. Thus, she spent the late afternoon and early evening awake and thinking about Peter's marriage the next day. She tossed and turned and kicked hot water bottles that had turned cold. She finally cried herself to sleep, the bed clothes twisted around her body not even before nine o'clock.

"_Fae!" _

She sat bolt upright and tried to untangle herself from her blankets, only halfway succeeding before she ran to the door. She stubbed her toe on a cold water bottle and yelped, before tripping over the sheet wrapped around her foot and landing in an undignified pile on the floor. Lysander, who was guarding her for the night, stuck his head in the room:

"What's the matter?"

"I could ask you the same thing! Yelling my name in the middle of the night...I had just fallen asleep too." Fae said, massaging her hurt toe.

"I did not call you, Princess..."

"Just a second ago...It sounded like you needed me."

"You must have been dreaming. Go back to sleep, you'll feel much better in the morning."

Fae did as she was told. She straightened the sheets and moved the water bottles over to a corner where she wouldn't trip over them and fell into bed, suddenly very tired. No sooner had she drifted off then:

"_Fae!" _

She rolled over and fell out of bed before rushing to the door.

"What?" Lysander looked at her questioningly.

"Is something wrong?"

"Not that I know of...Did you call me?" He shook his head. Fae sighed and went back to bed. She climbed into bed and sat for a few minutes before lying down. The second her head touched the pillow it came again.

"_Fae!" _

She ran to the door and looked at Lysander with wild eyes.

"It wasn't you, was it?"

"Again, Princess?"

She nodded mutely. Suddenly Lysander got a queer look on his face, and his eyes became glassy.

"I know who calls you, child. Go back to bed, and if you are called again say 'Speak to me Aslan, for your servant is listening.'"

Fae's eyes grew huge and she turned on her heel and went back to bed. She easily fell into a peaceful sleep and sure enough, the voice called to her again. She jumped out of bed and knelt on the stone floor:

"Speak to me Aslan, for your servant is listening." There was a moment of silence, and Fae feared that was going crazy and then a low rumbled that reminded her of a laugh filled the room. Warmth enveloped her being and a voice spoke softly, as if to her heart:

"_My child, you have struggled much over these past weeks, and for that I am very sorry. But I have something to ask of you that may seem too hard. I assured you it is for a greater good and is not meant to cause you pain."_

"What is it?" She whispered.

"_You must go back to Cair Paravel tonight."_ Fae gasped as if the air had been knocked out of her.

"But---Wait! No! Aslan-"

"_Faith..."_

The word was whispered, but it ricocheted off the walls before the warmth vanished and Fae knew it was just her in the room. She sat in stunned silence for several minutes before springing into action. She ran to the wardrobe and was amazed to find that it had provided her with the warm things needed for a long, cold ride. She hazardously threw the items on and ran to the door.

"Lysander! We've got to go!"


	16. 20

**Author's Note: **Heehee...I like this chapter. I won't say anything else, except lemons should be used to make lemonade, just so you all know. Love to all my reviewers, you know who you are!

**Chapter 26**

_In Which One Wonderful Thing Happens To Peter and Fae_

Fae rode Lysander for the first time since she'd had come to Cair Paravel for the very first time. She had left a hurried note to Anatolei, begged the centaur to take her back to Cair Paravel, pleading that guards were unnecessary and would only slow them down. They left around eleven o'clock; just as heaps of thick snow flakes began to leave the sky in a flurry. Centaurs, of course, run much faster than normal horses, so the two traveled much faster than if she were on horseback, but to her the centaur couldn't run fast enough. It was bitterly cold; the wind blew fiercely and threw snow in their faces. Lysander wore several layers and had a scarf wrapped entirely around his face with the exception of a slit to see out of. Fae rode with her arms wrapped around his middle beneath his cloak and with her face pressed again his back. She was wrapped similarly to him, but was much colder since she wasn't the one doing the running. The piercing cold made her drowsy and she kept on falling asleep, nearly slipping off more than one time. Lysander feared for her, knowing that if she fell asleep there was a chance that he'd be delivering a dead body. He stopped several times, making her get off and stamp her feet and rub the feeling back into her limbs. It finally stopped snowing early in the morning, just as the sun began to send timid rays over the horizon, but the wind still beat at them with cruel hands. She sensed in spite of the fuzz that clouded her brain that he was growing weary, but he continued on without her urging and she loved him for it. Just when she thought they could hang on no longer she started to make out the East Gate in the midst of the fog and cried out in relief.

"_Peter." _

He pulled his pillow over his head and burrowed deeper beneath his blankets.

"_Peter!" _

"Mmmph...What?"

"_Get up Peter!" _Peter sat up quickly, realizing it wasn't a dream.

"Who's there?"

"_Get dressed and go to the East Gate. There is a Christmas present waiting for you." _

Peter realized that he hadn't actually heard the words: it was like he felt them in his heart of hearts. He figured out that it was Aslan speaking to him again. He rushed to obey. The Great Lion hadn't said a word since he'd been informed of his wedding date. He didn't even know who he was getting married to that evening. His sisters had planned a simple ceremony, inviting only the most trusted of the nobles and the dearest of friends. Mrs. Beaver had been called upon to create a simple dress and there was a small feast planned for the evening. They had decided it was best to announce his bride to Narnia on New Years Day. The Royal Family had exchanged gifts on Christmas Eve, knowing full well that Christmas would be too busy for doing so. He had spent his night s since Fae left begging Aslan for a reason, for help, and for strength, but not so much a murmur of hope had been whispered in his ear. So, even though he didn't understand the command, he was anxious to do as Aslan said.

His breath froze in front of him in the crisp, cold air and then was flung away with the wind, his feet crunched on newly fallen snow. Dawn was just breaking over the sea and the bright sunshine reflecting off the snow stung his eyes. He sat there for about a quarter of an hour, stamping his feet and rubbing his hands together to keep them warm. The cold air stung his lungs and he was just about to turn back when he heard a faint cry. It took him several seconds to make out the figure moving towards him on the horizon in front of the rising sun. It looked like a centaur...With a rider. He couldn't make out who it was for the rider wore a hood and cloak and his foggy brain didn't recognize the centaur. A chuckle-ish sort or growl filled the air around him:

"_Husband, look upon your wife." _

He spun around, trying to find the clearly audible voice of Aslan. He turned in a full circle before he realized the two were in front of him. They had stopped about ten feet before him, and the rider slid off the centaur's back, though she clutched at the heaving side for support. The wind pulled at and removed her hood, sending her hair whipping around her face and Peter felt the strength leave his legs and he sank to his knees in the snow. Fae ran to him (Who else would it have been?), kneeling and reaching out to him in spite of herself.

"Peter! What's wrong?"

Her hands were like ice, jerking him out of his shocked state. Peter looked at her, drinking her in like a parched man drinks water. His heart ate her up like a starving man eats bread. His eyes sucked her in like a drowning man sucks in air. Finally he reached out: he touched her face, praying she wasn't a vision. She wasn't, of course. Her tears were real and warm as they ran over her icy, wind burned cheek and his cold fingers. He closed his eyes and laughed out loud out of the sheer joy and splendidness of it. When he opened his eyes he realized that she had recoiled from his touch; had drawn back, trying to regain control over herself, but still worried about him. He stood and laughed in delight, realizing she still loved him. He started spinning and dancing and sending snow flying through the air.

"Peter..."

She still sat in the snow, stunned and staring at him in sad confusion. She was crying soundlessly and the look on her face made his heart ache. He froze mid-spin and fell back to his knees, realizing she didn't know. She scooted away from him, casting her sad eyes away from his face. Her hot tears melted the snow they landed on. He reached out and cupped her frozen face in his hands, forcing her look at him.

"Do you know what? You are mine. As long as there are stars in the heavens and fish in the sea, you are mine. We are meant to be together forever and ever and from this day forward our hearts will be as one and no will ever, ever be able to take you away from me. Is that clear?"

She looked even more confused and hurt.

"But Peter, you're to marry today, Aslan said so. You can't possibly disobey Him..." She pulled away and pressed her fist to her mouth to keep back her sobs. Peter placed his hands on her shoulders and stared at her until she met his eyes.

"I am marrying tonight. I'm marrying you. Aslan has willed it and I'm not about to disobey."

If Fae hadn't already been sitting down, she would have fallen, so great was her shock. As it was she fell into his open arms laughing and crying all at once. He pulled her as close to him as he could, pressing kisses into her hair and alternately murmuring praises and words of affection. It was a sweet, wonderful sight, but the only one who saw it was the half-frozen Lysander.

Edmund sat back in his gilded chair, shaking his head in amazement, a stupefied grin plastered on his face. The events of the morning were still catching up to him and he could only praise Aslan for it all. When Peter had led a pink cheeked, dripping wet Fae to breakfast that morning a hesitant happiness had snuck across each of the Royal Siblings stunned faces. When he'd announced her as his bride the joy on Peter's face had been too much to believe. The girls had squealed so loudly that guards and maids came running and after that breakfast had been forgotten completely. Now he looked at the untouched food on the table and reached for a piece of bacon, deciding that at least one person was to have a healthy breakfast today.

Fae had been ushered off too a hot bath and a warm bed to rest after her long night ride and to energize her before the wonderful evening that awaited her. She had fallen asleep with Peter's promise ringing in her ears and his love beating in her heart. Lucy woke her up early in the afternoon, laughing like a crazy girl. Susan was in the room too, as was Mrs. Beaver and Tillie, and the three were gaping at the wardrobe. Fae turned to see what they were gazing at and nearly fell out of the bed in her amazement.

"How did you---?" She couldn't even finish her sentence.

"We didn't." Susan gasped.

"I just hung the dress up," Tillie said in amazement.

"That certainly isn't the dressed I sewed," Mrs. Beaver said, shaking her head.

"I bet it fits." Lucy said with a broad smile.

As was the wardrobe's custom, it had provided a gown that surpassed anything our mortal minds could have designed. It was white with a gold underskirt and gold trim that showed up on the sleeves, neckline, and around the hem of the skirt. After urging Fae was convinced to try it on. As Lucy predicted, it fit her perfectly. The sleeves were long and draping, with slits that reveal a second skin of gold over her arms. The skirt was an upside down tulip connected to a bodice. The fabric was light and soft to the touch and swirled around her feet when she moved. She took it off and they set to fussing with hair and whatnot, eating lots of chocolate and drinking rich, hot drinks and laughing and crying. Finally everyone but Tillie left to go dress for the wedding.

Fae donned the gown again just before five thirty, amazed at the perfect fit and softness of the cloth against her skin. Tillie draped a cloud of veiling over her head and gently directed her feet into diamond studded gold slippers. Small diamond earrings adorned her ears but she wore no other jewelry. She made her way to the room that Susan had instructed her to with Tillie before her. She wasn't nervous, not a bone in her body trembled. She was at wonderful, perfect peace when she took Edmund's arm and emerged into the long, windowed room the ceremony was in. The sun was setting and soft pink and orange and purple light bounced off the snow and onto her dress and made her shimmer. She took in Peter, who wore a white, gold trimmed tunic and loose white pants also trimmed in gold, and tried to choke back her tears, praising Aslan in her heart for the beauty of it all.

Peter felt a tear trickle down his cheek when she appeared on Edmund's arm. She was crying too, he noted, but her smile was far more powerful that her tears. When he took her hands they both felt the electric spark that pulsed in their blood. Oreius married them, making them recite the Narnian vows that had been used for a million years. Susan and Lucy cried. Mr. Beaver snuffled while Mrs. Beaver gazed, enraptured with the beauty of true love. Tumnus and Kiran smiled broadly. Tillie sniffed. Peter and Fae were oblivious to it all. The setting sun sent spangles of light through the diamond patterned window panes that lines two walls of the room, but the light could not match the light of love that shone on their faces.

"Do you swear to love, honor and protect this child of Aslan to the best of your ability as long as you are alive and well?"

"I do."

"Do you swear to love, honor, and comfort this child of Aslan to the best of your ability as long as you are alive and able?"

"I do."

"Then stay true to one another, hold each other in the night and stand beside each other in battle and in peace. Support one another in all that you do. Love each other as Aslan loves us, His children. Be willing to lay your life down for the other. Doing all these things will bring forth the blessings of Aslan. Go now, and share the life that the Great Lion has created for the two of you."

The ceremony ended and they feasted happily until late in the night. Fae and Peter were never more that three feet away from each other and the look of complete adoration never left either of their faces. In fact, if you didn't know them, you simply would have thought them to be addle-patted.

It was nearly one o'clock when they finally retired to his apartments. She changed into a loose,warm night gown and brushed out her hair. Peter lay on the bed, his shirt off, his hands behind his head, watching her with a look of completely happy idiocy, almost unbelieving that such a wonderful creature was his. She caught his eye in the mirror and smiled, blushing. She did her before bed routine: checking the windows, setting her sword out unsheathed beside the bed, taking a small dagger and placing it under her pillow, searching the room for oddities. Peter sat up in the middle of it, watching her quizzically.

"What are you doing?" He asked as she scanned the room, noting all of its entrances, where good hiding places were, etc.

"Getting ready for bed," she replied simply, "Where's the guard?" She asked, turning worried eyes onto him before scanning the room once again.

Peter finally understood. Feeling horrible for her, he went to her and wrapped his arms around her middle. His heart ached for her carefulness, the need for this night time procedure, for her fear. She eased at his touch, relaxing into his arms. He kissed the top of her head and tightened his hold.

"You won't need a guard any longer." He said into her hair. She stiffened and turned around, not leaving the circle of his arms. Her eyes probed his in wonder. In response to her unspoken question he smiled:

"You are mine, sweetheart. There is nothing in the world that I will let hurt you. You don't need a guard to protect you in the night. I'm here and I won't let anything get to you."

She smiled a deliriously happy smile.

"Oh, Peter..."

He lowered his head and his lips met her smiling ones for the first time. Her knees went weak and his blood pounded in his ears. He felt her knees give out and caught her up in his arms, never breaking their first kiss. Now, there is a list of the greatest first kisses in our world. This one first kiss blew all those away, as well as made the top list of great kisses in their world too. I won't tell you about the rest of their night; that is something too sacred and pure to try to describe in words. I can only pray and hope that each of you finds a love like theirs someday.


	17. 21

**Author's Note: ** Sorry this is so short guys, I fractured my wrist and thus typing is rather difficult and achy...Anyways, you guys make my day smile! I love your reviews, they make me dance with glee. And a happy note for you those of you frustrated at me for not updating regularly: School gets out in less than two weeks and I will be able to update much more regularly! Thanks to: Raine Ishida, EmoradaConDios, musafa, brezzybrez, mauraudersminuspeterarehot, and imakaledyrgirl for their reviews!

**Chapter 27**

_In Which Time Has Passed and Aslan Returns To Cair Paravel_

The winter passed without much event. Peter's promise that no one would hurt her was kept and although there were a couple more attempts on her life they were all thwarted. The source her not-so-well-wisher was never found. All the hired assassins that were caught gave different names, though they all said the man (the gender of the perpetrator was also agreed on) was of Calormen descent. Peter sent spies into the cities the killers were hired from, but no one was ever found. It was as if her nemesis vanished into thin air. Peter lost hours of sleep over this, holding Fae close to him at night and keeping close watch on her in the day. She practically accompanied him wherever he went and was a great asset to him, her charm and charisma infiltrating even the most closed minds of ambassadors and offering a point of view his councilors couldn't. She had refused the offered title of High Queen. Her argument was that there were only Four Thrones which meant only four rulers and that she would be ruling her own country soon. However, she did accept the titles "Lady of the Cair" and "Lady Princess" and wore them with grace.

They had had a long discussion about how he was going to rule Narnia and she was going to rule Terebinthia at the same time. She offered to simply give the country to Narnia as a province from which he could ruler via a governor or some other such thing. He argued back that the country had been under another's power for far too long and that the Terebinthians deserved freedom from another country's rule. She then said it would be easier for her to abdicate and for the country to set up a democracy of sorts to be ruled by. He didn't have a spoken reply for this, simply staring at her, knowing it would not be the case. They finally came to the conclusion that she would live in Terebinthia and Peter would visit her every three months, staying for three months and then leaving. She would visit Narnia once during the three month intervals but only stay for a few weeks. It wasn't an ideal set up, neither of them liked it at all, but that was that until they could think of something better.

It was a beautiful day in late April. The sun beamed at the greening ground, delighted to see the flowers that were springing from the earth. Fae was wading in the ocean, looking for shells and basking in the warm sunshine. Peter had spotted her from his study window and decided to surprise her to let her know lunch was almost ready.

Her back was to him, and her soft hum caught his ears over the sound of the sea. He recognized the tune from an ancient Narnian lullaby he'd sung to her one night. She didn't hear him coming over the crash of the ocean waves. He motioned for her guard, who was standing several yards behind her, to be silent. He grinned and winked, sneaking up behind Fae and lifting her off the ground, spinning her around in circles. She screamed and her feet sent sand and water flying through the air as she kicked and wriggled with no avail. Her fingers found a pressure point on the inside of his arm and a quick squeeze removed his arms and left her lying with thump on the warm sand. She tipped her head back and giggled at him as he rubbed his forearm and grimaced. He stuck his tongue out at her and dove towards her, sending sand soaring in all directions. She rolled out of his way and laughed at him. He lunged at her again and this time she wasn't fast enough; he had her pinned on the ground in seconds. She gave up her squirming and relaxed, panting from her exertion. Peter kissed her quickly and stood up, offering his hand to her. She huffed and stood without his help, shaking the sand from the skirts of her pale yellow dress.

"That was uncalled for," she said in a mock pout.

"I wanted a kiss," was his light-hearted reply. "What are you doing?"

"Enjoying the warmth," She smiled at him. "I still can't believe winter's finally over." She said, slipping her arm around his waist and resting her head in the crook of his shoulder.

"It is springtime," a warm, happy voice said from behind them.

They both turned and cried out with joy and surprise when they saw Aslan. They let go of each other and ran to him, wrapping their arms around him, burying their faces in his thick mane, breathing in his wild, wonderful scent. The sun's golden rays were nothing compared the wonderful light that shone off of the Lion. He seemed as happy to see them as they were to see him. He licked them and breathed on their faces and nuzzled them, basking in their love. Laughing Fae pulled away, her delighted smile lighting Peter's world. And then she cried out in amazement:

"Rhoswen!"

Peter jumped back from Aslan and looked for the person she spoke of. He barely caught of a glimpse of the statuesque, blonde woman in a flowing blue-grey dress before Fae ran to her and was caught up in her arms. The two held each other silently, rocking back and forth, for a long time, before Fae was held at an arm's length. The two stared at each other, silent tears running down each face and then there was much laughing and crying and exclaiming and more embracing. Peter racked his brain for who this person was; trying to remember a Rhoswen. She was obviously of Narnian descent, perhaps from a silver birch with long, white-blonde hair and eyes that were pale blue and shone with love for his wife, although they were carefully guarded. Peter could tell the woman had seen things that no one should have to. Her dress was belted around the waist and a slender scabbard hung from the belt. Though her clothing was simple, he could tell she was of royal lineage, there was something about the way she held herself, the carefulness of her manner. The two women's conversation caught his ears and he was pulled back to the situation at hand.

"Your hair!" The woman cried, stroking the barely longer than shoulder length locks in dismay. Fae's hand stole to finger her thick hair and sighed, explaining while everything clicked in Peter's mind.

"Your aunt!" He spouted, moving to Fae's side. The woman tore her eyes off of Fae for the first time. Fae smiled a wonderfully happy smile.

"Rhoswen, this is the High King Peter of all Narnia and...My husband."

Rhoswen let go of Fae's hands and turned to him. She stared at Peter for a very long time, her pale eyes probing into his very soul. He didn't look away, but held her gaze, answering her unspoken questions and assuring her without saying a word. Finally Rhoswen dropped her gaze and knelt before him, touching her fingertips to her forehead and then to her palm, a sign he recognized of honor and gratitude. He reached out to her and pulled her to her feet, embracing her warmly.

Fae pulled away from the two, noticing that there were two men in odd clothing standing further down the beach, watching them intently. She looked at them, trying to discern their purpose, and then looked to Aslan.

"They are friends, my child, do not fear."

She breathed a deep sigh of relief and turned to watch her aunt and her husband quietly. She saw the silver streaks in Rhoswen's hair that weren't there when they'd said good bye that fall. There were premature wrinkles between her eyebrows and a strange, barely noticeable, scar running down from her temple to her jaw. There was also an odd look in her eyes, that of one who had seen too much in a lifetime. Fae shivered, although the day was warm and the sun beat down on her shoulders, afraid for what her guardian had faced in the months they'd been separated. The Lion cleared his throat from behind them and they all turned expectantly. Fae suddenly remembered.

"You're here!" She gasped. Peter went to stand beside Fae, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"How soon do we leave?"


	18. 22

**Author's Note:** I'm afraid this chapter might be hard to follow...I just feel horrible for not posting anything in so long, and I really need to get through this bunch to move on to greater and better things. _For those of you with the tendency to skip over paragraphs, you might want to actually read this stuff. Future chapters will make more sense!_ We're getting into the final chapters here. Woot. I love this story, but it's time to move on. Sorry if this chapter seems strained, but it really was. Anyways, thanks to Raine Ishida, brezzybrez, and musafa for reviewing. Guys, I really need ideas, help me out, eh? Have a great weekend!

**Chapter 28**

_In Which They Leave For Terebinthia_

They left on the first day of May with the sun shining brilliantly on the water and with a lovely, steady breeze behind them. Susan and Lucy were left behind to take care of Narnia, much to Lucy's chagrin. Susan and Kiran had a long, dramatic good-bye that was almost laughable. The ships (they took thirteen of them) were all clamoring and running about in a slightly organized fashion. Fae, oblivious to it all, stood at the poop deck's railing, and watched Cair Paravel and Narnia shrink into the distance until the castle was only a diamond sparkling on the edge of green velvet. She had an odd look on her face, and shivered visibly when Peter approached her.

"What's the matter?" He asked, slipping his arms around her waist and resting his chin atop her head. She turned in his arms to face him, trying to smile.

"I just had the queerest feeling;" she said with darkened eyes, "like this was the last time I would ever see Cair Paravel."

Peter pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. Suddenly she gasped, trying to gulp in air before she started coughing and choking, dropping to her knees. Peter paled and knelt down next to her, wrapping an arm around her and coaxing her to take deep breaths. In minutes the fit was over and she was wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, drawing shaky, deep breaths and leaning into Peter's side.

This was not a new experience for Peter. Ever since her midnight ride in the snow back to him she'd had coughing fits. Dear old Dr. Ranjit said that her cold at Anatolei's had probably been more than just a cold, and that the long, frigid night ride had made it worse. He said that she would have fits every now and then, but it wasn't anything to worry about. Peter was worried though; she'd been having a fit every couple of days lately. And one recent time she'd coughed up blood. He knew that the cordial would be able to heal her if she ever came near death's door, but he didn't want to see her suffer so.

"Are you alright?" he asked, standing before taking her outstretched hands and pulling her up.

"Yes," her voice was breathy and weak, "I'm fine." She saw his worried face and kissed him gently in assurance.

"I just worry, you know..." He said, pulling back after a while.

"I know, and it's sweet of you. But you shouldn't so much." She glanced anxiously behind her, trying to catch the last sparkle of Cair Paravel. He used two fingers to turn her face back to him.

"Don't worry. Everyone gets feelings like that before a war. You'll see Cair Paravel many more times, my love." He said, pulling her closer to his side.

The two men Rhoswen had brought with her were true Terebinthians and her top generals. They were wonderful, brilliant men, wise and brave. Fae and Peter spent hours locked away in the states room with her generals and their generals and, of course, Aslan, to discuss what they would do once upon Terebinthian soil. One of Rhoswen's generals was named Aden Zahir, a man younger than one would expect, though a little older than Peter; quiet and smiling and bearing wisdom that was very rare in someone his age. He and Lysander got on splendidly, though his nature was much more amiable than the centaur's. The other general was called Suleiman Siamak. He was a giant of a man, Fae felt as if she came up to his belly button when standing next to him. He was loud, boisterous, and seemed to be always laughing or singing or both. Peter noticed that his dancing eyes had a tendency to look upon Rhoswen and, if he could manage it, he always sat near her.

They spent several days explaining what had been happening in Terebinthia since Fae and Rhoswen had parted. Fae learned that as soon as she was out of sight, Rhoswen had saddled up their old nag and rode to the capitol of Archenland to meet with Suleiman, whom she had known as a girl in Terebinthia. From Archenland, they had traveled to Terebinthia, and had quietly gathered Terebinthians, started insurgencies, and spread the word of a coming Queen. Some of the bolder Terebinthian slaves had run away when they heard the news of the coming Queen and her Narnian friends. Tales were whispered in the market place. Ancient songs were resurrected, celebrating the rule of a good queen. These songs became secret messages that only the true Terebinthians understood and recognized. These souls were hiding in the cliff cities beneath and around the old Terebinthian palace; the one Fae had been born in.

There are things you need to know about this palace, as well as about Fae's family. If you remember, Fae's father and her Aunt Rhoswen were of Narnian descent. But her mother's family had been rulers over Terebinthia for hundreds of years. Their line wasn't particularly remarkable, except for one thing. Unlike other countries, the king was not the primary ruler, the queen was. The queen went to war and led the troops and made most of the important decisions. This is because the first person to go to Terebinthia was a woman, and she was the first ruler, but that is another very long story that I will have to save for another day. However, you should know an important thing about this first queen of Terebinthia. It is that she had a very special sword, made by the hands of Narnian dwarf lords (for the first queen was, after all, a Narnian) and that this sword was fused with good magic and spells and was very particular and seemed to have a personality all it's own.

It was a sword that would only let a female hold it; a boy could only carry it and use it until he was thirteen or so. It only let members of the family touch it, sort of as favor. If a person tried to pick the sword up that was not related to any Terebinthian royalty, he was likely to be burned or lashed upon. The only one that this did not happen to was Tinakin the Red Dwarf. This is because as the Head of Weaponry, he was of the line of Narnian Dwarves that melded the sword, though he did not know it. The only person that could wield it was the queen herself and the sword was fiercely loyal to the queen and her descendants.

This sword was also the key to the palace. If the sword was taken from the palace gates by the queen, the doors locked behind it. People could leave, but no one could enter until the sword came back through the main gates and broke the spell. It was the way things had always been, and always will be. So, when Fae's mother died and Rhoswen took the baby Fae and the sword from the palace, an invisible magic bubble of sorts went up and no one entered it after she left. The massive stone walls became unassailable, the massive wooden gates would not splinter, nor would they rot or decay over time. They simply stood, and no one could penetrate them. The only remedy to the spell of protection was Fae entering the main gates, sword in hand.

The closed up palace of Terebinthia has a secret, underground port beneath it, one that in deep within the mountain that the castle rests upon. It is a huge port that was very useful back before the Lone Islander's invasion. As an island nation, Terebinthia had a rather nice Royal Navy and this underground lake was a perfect place for storing the ships when they weren't in use. Rhoswen knew about this port and she knew it would be perfect to harbor the thirteen ships. The only problem was getting it open. Since it was part of the castle (It was joined to the main courtyard by several flights of stairs and one very complicated sort of elevator.), it too was locked up until the sword (and Fae) came through the gates.

This problem was to be addressed, and you will find out how in a little while. However, I'm sure you want to know something about the voyage to the island country, because, even though it was a voyage to war, it was magical in and of itself. There were spars across the deck, long and drawn out, with warriors drawing like flies to honey to their chosen side. Peter and Fae did their own share of sparring, with swords and such. They were almost evenly matched: Peter had experience and the help of years of professional training, as well as his height and weight, while Fae was smaller and quicker and had more acrobatic training with left her with more poise. The only problem she really had was that she wasn't as experienced, though her sword seemed to know what it was supposed to do when in her hands. This advantages on both sides left the winners up in the air, most of the time they came to a draw.

The nights were the absolute best in Fae's opinion. As land got further and further away, more stars seemed to get closer and closer. Fat loved to go up into the crow's nest with Peter and pick out constellations and create new ones just for the fun of it. A few of the ones they made up are still known constellations in Narnia to this day. It was quite lovely. Evening weren't warm enough to sleep on the deck, but they were warm enough to stay up for a while and gaze at the stars, just as long as you had on a nice heavy cloak. The music was Fae's favorite part of the evenings spent on the ship, as I've been told.

It started on the first evening they were on board. Fae and Peter were talking near the forecastle when music seemed to fall from above them. It turns out that the night watchman in the crow's nest had brought along a flute to keep him company. From somewhere else on the ship, strains from a guitar matched the tune the flute was casting out. A few minutes later, from the ship closest to them, a harmonica sang through the air, and then a steady, soft drum beat, and the piercing cries of a fiddle, a lute, a panpipe. Musicians from the other ships began to play until all thirteen ships were involved. Music filled the air around them, surrounding them in its comforting arms. Everyone seemed to know the song being played. Sometimes Peter would sing along. If Fae knew the song, she would sing with him, their voice harmonizing over the waves. You could hear other voices too. One night they were all very lucky and Aslan sang the wind into motion. He was on Fae and Peter's ship, but you could hear his voice from every ship just as if you were standing right before him. It was a great and beautiful thing.

Fae spent a lot of time with Aslan. She would sit at his feet and soak up all he had to say, which sometimes wasn't a lot. He gave her lessons in philosophy and in leadership, areas her schooling had lacked in. Peter would often join her at his feet and they would bounce ideas off of each other until they finally understood what Aslan was trying to tell them. They had several conversations about death and war until Fae felt comfortable about the fact that she would see people dying and couldn't do anything to help them. She didn't like the fact, no one really does. It's difficult to see a man dying on the battlefield, knowing that he's got a mother who'll mourn his death. Fae could not come to terms with the fact that she would have to kill people. She knew it was part of war and couldn't really be avoided. Aslan had no comfort to give her, and if Aslan couldn't say anything, there was no way Peter could. The Great Lion only commended her on her tenderness and the sweetness of her heart.

But that of course couldn't last forever. It didn't take them very long to get to Terebinthia. The route that Rhoswen's generals had chosen was very delicate and precise. They had to sail around Terebinthia to the palace on the cliffs without being seen, a feat that would be difficult to accomplish. Narnia, however, is full of expert sailors and naval officers; somehow, they managed to do so quite well. Fae would never forget the first time she laid eyes on her country.

Fae rose early, before most of the others on the ship and even before Peter. She disentangled herself from Peter's arms, kissing his forehead softly before alighting to the deck. The morning was crisp and clear when Fae emerged from the cabin she and Peter shared. She still wore her nightgown, a loose flowing thing that ebbed and flowed around her body. Her hair loose and was caught up off her face by the sea breeze. The sun was just beginning to shoot rays over the horizon, and the Eastern half sky was tinged with the pinks and purples of dawn, while the Western portion of the sky still sparkled with stars on midnight blue. She leaned against the railing, watching the sun rise when Aslan called out to her from the stern.

"Princess, come and look upon your country."

Fae ran to his side and cried out in her joy. There it was, shining like an emerald on glass, Terebinthia. It was a largish island that swept up into a huge mountain facing the East. She squinted; at the top of the mountain was a pearl, white and gleaming in the sun. With the aide of the captain's spyglass, she saw that the pearl was a palace, perched atop the deep green forests of terebinth trees. Behind the palace was a sheer drop off stone She swept her gaze to the flat lands that reached out to the sea. The forests faded into meadows, and the meadows into white sand beaches. It looked like a dreamland with the background of pinks and purples and oranges of sunrise.

"Oh, Aslan..." Was all Fae could say.

"When will we land?"

"Soon, dearheart. We have to swing around and each ship has to go one by one into the underground port. The only problem is smuggling you and the sword into the palace without anyone noticing, but I have plan."


	19. 23

**Author's Note:** One hundred and one! I never thought I'd see the day...Wow. Thanks so much to all of you who've reviewed! You fill my day with smiles and laughter. Keep it up! For reviewing this chapter, I deeply thank Raine Ishida and brezzybrez, and especially Amber, who I'd like to welcome to the ride. It really makes me so happy that people are still out there and discovering this story. Have a great week guys!

**Chapter 29**

_In Which There Is Much Hiking and Fae Has More Problems_

Darkness surrounded her, engulfing her as she thrashed about, trying to find something solid to hang onto. She was so cold. From a long way off, she could hear Peter, calling her name. He was looking for her, something must be terribly wrong. And then her feet found something firm. Her eyes adjusted to new light and she found herself in a long hallway. She was still so cold. The floor gleamed like ice in moonlight. Was it moonlight lighting the hall? It didn't feel right. Peter was still calling her, but his voice was even fainter and she wanted to know where this hall led. There was something she needed to find. She wandered down the hallway, trying doors, finding some locked tight, some open, and moving on. A sense of urgency rose in her breast, she needed to find it, but couldn't. The open rooms held beautiful things, but not what she wanted. The locked doors drove her mad. And then, suddenly, out of nowhere, laughter filled the air. It wasn't a happy laughter either. It made gooseflesh rise on her arms. She searched for the source, but couldn't find it, yet it was surrounding her, trying to consume her. It scared her, and then the pain came; in her side, a knife, piercing her flesh. The silver handle sent moonlight spangles skimming the icy white floor. She screamed in agony and the laughter increased. She reached for her sword, but it wasn't there. In the midst of the laughter that filled her head, she heard Peter. He was still calling for her. She had to find him, he'd help her. She followed the whisper of his voice amidst the ever increasing raucous of the laughter.

She began to run. The laughter followed her. There was a door at the end of the hallway. Peter's voice was coming from it. She had to get to it, had to get out. She cried out as something cut into her back. She looked over her shoulder and saw a sword, dripping with blood, following her. She ran harder, but could barely move. Pain...in her arm, blood was trickling from a deep gash down to her fingertips. She finally reached the door, but it wouldn't open. She pounded on it and screamed, but nothing happened. Something stabbed her, and she spun around, there was the sword, and its bearer. His face was awful, his eyes, full of malice and hate. He was going to kill her.

"Peter!"

She rolled over, awake and gasping for breath. She could still feel the pain, her heart was pounding, and her face and hair were soaked with sweat. Peter woke quickly when she cried his name. Moonlight glistened off the long, dangerously sharp knife he'd grabbed from under his pillow. He reached for his wife while scanning the room for intruders. Satisfied that the room was empty, he lowered the knife and put his other arm around Fae.

"Are you alright?" He asked, smoothing her tousled hair and kissing her sweaty brow.

"Yes..." She breathed, clinging to him.

"What happened? A bad dream?" She nodded against his chest.

"Tell me about it." He whispered, stroking her hair and rocking gently back and forth.

She told him the whole thing, but when it came to the part where she'd seen the bearer if the sword, she couldn't remember his face. She tried, but all she could conjure up was the malice and hate in his wicked eyes. She didn't feel any better for telling Peter either.

When she was finished he pulled her into his lap and sang to her softly. Her heart slowly returned to its normal beat, as did her breathing, but she was still horribly frightened. She shivered in his arms and he stopped singing.

"Peter, he wanted me dead. It was so real...I've never been so frightened in all my life."

"It's alright darling. I'm here. I'll protect you. You're safe with me, I swear it. You're safe. I've got you. Don't worry. I love you. I'm here. I'm here. I'm here."

He held her tightly, and kissed her and reassured her. She finally fell into a deep, peaceful sleep. Peter didn't though. He stayed up the rest of the night, holding her tightly, listening to her even breathing. He hoped that he would be able to keep his promise. The next morning dawned just as Peter finally fell asleep. Fae woke in his arms and smiled before she gently kissed him good morning. He blinked and groaned inwardly, but was relived that she seemed to be unaffected by the dream.

"Thank you." She said, kissing him on more time. He let the kiss linger on his lips before he pushed her away and stood up.

"Come on, let's get dressed, it's going to be a long day." He said, throwing a bundle of clothes at her.

She nodded and proceeded to put on the boy's clothes she'd been given. Her wardrobe was a conglomeration of Terebinthian and Lone Islander attire, smuggled from the country by Rhoswen. There was a long sleeved tunic that fell just past her knees, a vest just shorter than the tunic, a wide sash that was to be a belt, a pair of flowing pants (Which is really a Calormen style that was picked up by the Lone Islanders.), and a pair of funny looking but sturdy boots. She put on a traditional Lone Islander headpiece that hid her hair and most of her face before donning her sword, hiding a knife in her boot, and strapping a bow and arrow set over her shoulders. Peter wore similar attire, as well as a very long robe and darkened his face and hands with coffee grounds so to make his pale skin blend in.

They met Kiran and Aden Zahir on the deck of the small sail boat they'd spent the night on. They had sailed the boat that night on Aslan's breath until it was slap up against the side of the cliffs. Aden was going to lead them up a trail up the side of the mountain and then they would make their way to the palace. They would wait until dark and sneak into the palace (hopefully) without anyone noticing. As soon as they were inside, Aslan would sing the ships into the underground port and they'd hide in the fortified palace until the time was right to make a move. At least, that was the plan.

Fae grabbed onto a rock to steady herself with one hand and clutched her side with the other hand. It was getting hard for her to breath. The path they were hiking up was very narrow, over grown, and nearly vertical in some places. Aden, who was leading them over the treacherous stretch, explained that the trail was really a path used by mountain goats to get to water. Fae gazed up a what seemed to be completely un-trodden ground and grimaced.

"Are you alright, Princess?"

Kiran laid a hand on her shoulder, concern lined his brow. Aden and Peter, who walked ahead of her, had stopped and were looking back at her with similar expressions. She licked her lips and tried to smile while she absently patted Kiran's hand. She tried to look encouraging and not at all disheartened while nodding vigorously.

"I'm fine," she nodded again and smiled at her friend, "Thank you."

She continued the climb, trying not to let her heavy breathing become too obvious. Peter paused to help her over a particularly rough patch of ground. Concern still showed plainly on his face. She squeezed the hand he'd helped her with.

"I'm fine, really," she firmly stated. "Stop worrying about me."

She tried to smooth his brow with her fingers, letting them linger on his face. He bit his lip and started to say something, but Aden's voice silenced him.

"Hide! Quickly!"

"Where?" Fae whispered to Peter, scanning the area for a safe hiding place.

"Over there, behind that boulder."

Peter pointed to a tall grey rock just above them that was separating from the mountain. There was only a foot or so of room between it and the cliff, but it would have to do. Kiran had already melted into a crevice in to rocks and Aden was crouching in some thick shrubbery. Peter pushed Fae towards the rock. It was a difficult climb, but Fae and Peter managed to scrambled behind it just a voices down from the hill they were about to surpass.

A moment later, people appeared over the crest of the hill and Fae stiffened. She could feel a fit coming. She stifled a gasp and watched them carefully. The four men seemed to be part of the military, they all wore swords and had spikes coming out of their turbans. They wore the outlandish Lone Islander pants and odd looking coats. Peter surmised that they were probably foot soldiers who didn't have a set military dress.

"There doesn't seem to be anyone up here, sir," one said, turning to a man obviously in charge.

"Very good. Let's keep going then."

Fae had to breathe. She could feel her mouth filling up with blood. She shoved her fists into her mouth to stifle it, but it only made the noise that escaped her even stranger. The four men stopped in their tracks and looked around; their hands on the hilts of swords.

The leader surveyed the area carefully with narrowed eyes.

"Who's there?"

One man began to walk to the bushes Aden hid in. Just before he reached them Peter emerged from behind the rock.

"It's was only me sir."

"Who are you?"

"No one of any account or means sir."

"Why were you hiding back there?"

"I was afraid when I heard voices. You know what sort of people run around in these parts sir."

"That I do." The leader looked skeptical. "What are you doing up here?"

Peter didn't say anything and the man repeated the question harshly.

"I...I'm a goatherd, sir. My flock is...running around here somewhere. It's time for them to move to different pastures, sir."

"I see."

There was a strangled sound from behind the boulder. From his spot in the bushes Aden tightened his grip on the carved handle of his knife. A man still stood a few feet away from him. He feared for the King of Narnia, as well as for his queen-to-be. The leader looked to the rock that Fae hid behind.

"What was that?"

"Uh, one of...of my goats sir. She has bad lungs sir and, um, can't make proper, goaty noises, sir..."

"Why don't you fetch her to me, eh? I know a thing or two about goats."

"Oh, sir you don't need to be doing that sir. She's not worth your time sir. I don't want to be bothering you sir."

"No bother at all. Bring her on out."

"Well sir, if you insist..."

"Oh, but I do."

The man's eyes gleamed with a primordially evil delight. He knew he was toying with his prey and he enjoyed it. Peter slowly made his way back to the boulder, turning away at the last possible moment. A horrified cry burst from his lips, a cry which the leader translated as one of fear. He motioned to one of the men who bore a long bow to shoot. There was a twang of an arrow being shot, but Peter didn't fall. Indeed, the only movement that came from the arrow was it falling from the bow as its bearer keeled over: an arrow was stuck clear to the shaft in his side. In the same moment, the man standing nearest to Aden fell with a thump, a long knife protruding from his back. Before the other two men had time to react, another arrow was notched and the only remaining person was the leader. The once cruel man was now terrified as two savage looking individuals (It was just Kiran and Aden.) emerged from out of now where. Peter walked toward him, head held high, looking every inch a king, albeit, a slightly shaken one. He began to draw his sword from beneath his long robe, but never had a chance to use it.

The leader turned on his heel and ran. He was out of Kiran's range and Aden didn't carry a bow and arrow. Peter started to run after him, but a twang made him stop short. Fae appeared at the top of the boulder, feet planted firmly, a small stream of blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Calmly and carefully, despite her trembling fingers, she notched an arrow and shot straight and true. One arrow from her bow was all she needed to take the man down. She didn't kill him, mind you. She only sank her arrow deeply into his thigh, making him incapable of running anymore. Kiran and Aden ran to him, bandaged his wound, tied him to a tree and gagged him, knowing full well that he'd be found soon enough. Peter ran to Fae and helped her from atop the boulder. By the time Kiran and Aden were done, she'd wiped the blood from her mouth and was acting normally. No one could tell what a struggle for her life she'd had behind the rock, though Peter had a pretty good idea.

"Come now, quickly," Aden said, "they will miss these men soon."

The rest of the day was spent much like the beginning, with little or no excitement but with a far faster pace. By nightfall they'd made it to what Aden called a safe house on the very edge of a city they'd need to pass through to get to the palace. Kiran explained that there was no way around it, the Lone Islander army was constantly looking about the outskirts and surrounding jungle for people heading to join the true Terebinthians in their hideaway. He said it would be far simpler to go through the city acting as unassuming peasants or what-have-you than to risk their lives.

Fae fell into the bed she had been shown to, not even bothering to take off her shoes, and was asleep instantly. Peter came to the room they were to share soon after and gently slipped off the strange boots, eased the sword belt from her waist and removed the skewed head piece the rest of the way. He smiled down on her sleeping form, sitting on the edge of the bed. He stroked the messy hair off her face and kissed her soiled cheek. He slipped out of his heavy robe and removed as much of the strange clothing as he could to get comfortable. After he'd snuffed the candle he wrapped his arms around his wife and let her steady, even breathing lull him to sleep.


	20. 24

**Author's Note: **Well, I've certainly been gone long enough, haven't I? I went on vacation and I think my muse got a little mixed up. My guess is she went to Oregon for two weeks while I was in Wyoming for one. Luckily she made it back and we've cranked out an awfully long chapter for you guys. I hope you appreciate it. My deepest and greatest thanks to Raine Ishida and brezzybrez, for being the only 2 out of 61 to let me know they liked the last chapter. I really appreciate and like reviews, they make my day smile. Have good week folks.

**Disclaimer: **The song Blessed Be Your Name was written by Matt Redman, not by me.

**Chapter 30**

_In Which Fae Gets Lost and Found and Gates Are Opened_

Afternoon sunlight bounced off the gleaming marble palace and stung Galen's eyes as she gazed at the magnificent structure in the distance. She shifted the basket she had strapped across her back without dropping the many parcels and bundles she held in her left arm. She squinted and searched the street for the vendor her friend (and the lady of the safe house) had told her about. She almost missed it, the red and purple stripes of the awning had faded considerably to pink and grey. As she drew near she recognized the couple that ran the fruit stand. Before the Lone Islanders had come, nearly twenty years ago, they had been well-off merchants who owned several entire bazaars and two very prosperous carpet shops. There was no doubt in Galen's mind that they were now running that shambles of a fruit stand for some Lone Islander who had a very tall, very fierce Calormen behind him.

Galen masked her infuriated sigh by blowing a strand of salt and pepper hair out of her eyes. She willed the haughty look off of her round face and put on the defeated, trampled sort of look that most Terebinthians wore. She paused at the stand to look at some of the fruit; the couple was busy with another customer. Two young men emerged from a nearby tavern followed closely by a man in nomad's clothing. She recognized one as Aden Zahir. She had known his mother; the woman had danced at her wedding. She had been killed the night the Lone Islanders came.

She was so wrapped up in watching the young man that she didn't notice the soldiers running through the street until it was too late. Packages and bundles flew as the small, plump woman was shoved off her feet and into the dust. The top packages in her basket scattered as she landed with a thump. There was the telltale sound of metal on stone as the hilt of the sword hit the cobbles. But even before she could cry out she was surrounded by the three men she had noticed. They were handing her packages and the nomad was using his flowing robes to hide the sword in her basket from prying eyes. She gathered her packages into her arms and with the nomad's assistance, she stood. No sooner had she risen then one of the young men (most likely Aden, who recognized her as she had recognized him) stamped on her foot. She yelped, more out of surprise then pain. Aden spoke loudly:

"Oh, woman, you seem to have hurt yourself when you fell...You two, help this kind mother to that stand, I'm sure they won't mind sharing a stool and some shade while I fetch her a doctor."

Aden vanished into the swarming crowd. Kiran and Peter gazed after him in wonder before helping the woman to the fruit stand. Once she'd been seated she protested loudly that she was fine. The nomad looked at her sharply, and she gasped when she saw his cerulean blue eyes. The other young man quietly introduced himself as Kiran Ansari and the nomad as Peter.

"The barbarian king..." She whispered without realizing it. Kiran knelt down and took her foot in his hands.

"I told I'm fine!" Galen cried, trying to jerk her small foot away. "This isn't how I was instructed to do this."

The two men exchanged glances and Kiran tightened his hold on her wriggling foot. She was suddenly self conscious of her fat ankles, the characteristic she disliked in herself.

"I'm going to ask you to prove who you are." Kiran said softly, gently twisting her foot one way, then another.

Galen looked at him through narrowed eyes and slowly set down her basket.

"You will find a key in that basket." She said softly. Peter knelt and shifted the parcels around. Even in the shade of the awning, the sword glowed brightly when he removed the cloth she'd wrapped around it. It burned Peter when he tried to touch it.

"Ow! That's hers alright." Peter said, clutching his head and moaning. Kiran jumped in surprise and twisted her foot sharply. She yelped when he pulled it in an unnatural position.

"I'm sorry. Forgive us for our unbelief," Kiran said, his hands were shaking, "But you see, the one you seek has already left with another."

Cold fear welled up in her heart.

Fae stumbled behind the tall, skinny woman with a big nose before her, trying to keep up. They were headed in the direction completely opposite from the palace, the woman had barely said a word to her, and Fae was getting worried. The ships would be expecting to enter the harbor by night fall. Fae was very thankful for the woman (who was not very pleasant) that was leading her through the winding, narrow streets because she knew that she would never be able to navigate them by herself. Fae tightened her grip on the baskets and bundles she was carrying and hurried up to the woman, Galen was her name.

"Um, excuse me, but are we getting close?" The woman narrowed her small eyes and gave Fae a disgusted look.

"Some strapping boy you are. My home is not far away. Get back to your place."

Fae supposed they had to keep on play-acting, but the only people on the street were two beggars and haggard looking mother trying to gather up her frolicking children. But obediently she backed up. Unfortunately (or perhaps, very fortunately) she backed up without looking behind her and she ran into one of the little girls the poor mother was chasing after. She had to nearly bend in half not to crush the small child as she fell over backwards. Everything in her arms went flying and her cry of dismay was echoed by the mother and by the woman named Galen. Fae scrambled to pick the fallen items up, not wanting to waste more time. The poor little mother scurried to help her and their hands touched the same package at the same time. Fae looked up and for a brief moment their eyes met. It was at that moment that Fae had a revelation.

"Oh my..." She whispered, drawing away her hand quickly.

The realization was this: That poor mother could very well have been Fae's older sister, so alike were their faces. Fae saw the same high cheek-bones, the same almond-shaped eyes (though the mother's were dark as coffee), the same small, round nose, and the same strong jawbone that she saw every single time she looked in the mirror. That hands that reached for the fallen package were the same long fingered, broad nailed hands. A look at the tall woman who had been leading her confirmed her revelation. She had been following the wrong woman!

"Hurry! Pick up those packages, you dirty scum!" The woman cried.

Fae scrambled backwards, the way they had come, tripping over her feet and her ridiculous pants as she did.

"What are you doing? Where are you going? Get back here!" The woman yelled as Fae turned and ran.

Just before she turned the corner Fae glanced over her shoulder and saw the woman coming after her. She all but flew down the street and before she ducked down an ally and ran as fast as she could. She tried to run in the direction they had come from, to the east where the palace was, but lost track of the streets as she ran, fearing that the woman was still going to follow her. After she had run so much that there was an unbearable stitch in her side she slowed down and finally stopped to get her bearings. She sank to a deserted stoop, catching her breath and trying to figure out where she was.

She took in her surroundings, which weren't very nice ones. She certainly wasn't in the richest part of town. The only comfort was that the people here looked very much like the little mother had; all almond eyes and long fingers. The placement of the sun told her it was late in the afternoon, probably around five o'clock. She stood and looked around, ah, there it was: The palace seemed to be an unendingly far way off. Nearly the entire city would need to be traversed in order for her to get there. She sighed heavily and bowed her head.

A strand of hair fell in her eyes. Fae blew it out of her eyes without thinking, then grabbed for her head covering wildly only to find that it was sliding off her head. She ducked into an ally to right it again. It took her a long time for Aden had done it for her that morning and the day before and she was rather unaccustomed to winding it around several times around her head. Finally she managed to get it on properly and emerged from the ally. She stood in the street, contemplating what to do.

You see, this had been their plan: The four were to inconspicuously make their way to a specific fruit vendor and once they got there, a woman named Galen Something-Or-Other would come and using carefully scripted words ask Fae (who was, of course, dressed as a ragamuffin boy) to carry her things for her. The woman, who was a friend of the lady who owned the safe house they had stayed in, would have Fae's sword hidden in one of her baskets and when they reached her home (which was quite near the palace) would give Fae her sword. One by one, the boys would come to the house and a few hours after dark they would sneak to the palace and Fae would go through the gate and they would be safe.

Of course, that wasn't going to happen now.

Fae sighed heavily, blinking rapidly to keep her tears at bay. She chewed on her lip and looked around. The streets of the town were not engineered to be easily navigated. They were narrow in some places and broad in others and scattered throughout the city were random dead ends. The streets twisted and turned as if they had been made by snakes. Fae didn't know how she was going to ever make her way to the palace.

"Are you alright?" A tired looking man with kind eyes touched her shoulder. Fae jumped, squealing in surprise. She covered her mouth and the man looked at her strangely.

"I'm fine," she said as deeply as she could manage. "I'm just a bit, well, lost."

"Where is it that you are trying to go, lad?"

"The palace on the hill."

The man (who was obviously a Terebinthian) started slightly. He glanced at a group of soldiers standing on the nearby street corner and then at Fae.

"Come. It is not safe to speak here."

He led her down the street; mute until they were out of earshot of the soldiers. He then introduced himself as Corben Ranji. Fae took stock of where they were heading, noting how close buildings were to each other, and how dirty and grungy the street was. The other people on the street were just like the man leading her: walking with slumped shoulders and a slow step, their eyes tired. And they all were obviously Terebinthians. It broke her heart to see them. He took her to a mud brick house crammed in between two taller buildings.

"Please, join us for the evening meal."

He pulled back the blanket that was used for a door and motioned her inside. A horrible stench wafted to Fae's nostrils and it was all she could do not to gag. The room she was in was dark and dirty and dank and full of bodies. Old women sat in one corner, sewing and weaving, talking softly. Little children ran around on the dirty floor. In the middle of the room, younger women were cooking over a single stove. Old and young men were sitting on the floor, some with work in their hands, some with nothing, listening to a shriveled old man on a pallet. In a corner a baby cried and one of the women ran from the cooking area to a crude wooden cradle to scoop up the infant. On the other side of the room there was the sound of retching. Fae saw a teenaged girl bent over a wisp of a woman on a pile of blankets, spooning a thin broth into her mouth.

"Why are these people living like this?" She asked, horrified.

"The Lone Islanders said we must live here and the Calormens saw to it that we did."

"This is horrible." She said, forgetting to mask her voice.

"Yes, it is, but we look forward to the day when our princess comes and puts and end to it. The day draws near and then we will rejoice. We are not forgotten, Aslan will send her soon." Corben looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Maybe he has already sent her."

Fae shifted uncomfortably and turned her face from him. She perched near the group of men, not speaking, barely moving; contemplating how she was going to get to the palace. The evening meal was served even before darkness had touched the streets. It wasn't much of a meal, just flat bread and some vegetables, and all in small portions. She waited to eat, watching to see what was customary. She was used to Peter thanking Aslan quickly before their meals and her heart ached for him to be there to do so. She found that they had their own way of thanking Aslan.

The shriveled man who the rest of the men had been listening to sat up on his pallet. The room fell silent, waiting, anticipating. He opened his mouth and Fae had to lean forward and strain to hear him. You see, in a thin, ancient voice, he had begun to sing. Fae couldn't make out the words until the rest of the men slowly joined in. Then the women. And then the children. They all sang the song softly, in sweet voices that raised up gooseflesh on her arms. Fae found that she knew the words too. Rhoswen had sung the song often:

_Blessed be Your name, in the land that is plentiful_

_Where Your streams of abundance flow, blessed be Your name_

_Blessed be Your name, when I'm found in the desert place_

_Though I walk through the wilderness, blessed be Your name_

_Every blessing You pour out I'll turn back to praise_

_When the darkness closes in Lord, still I will say_

_Blessed be the name of the Lord, blessed be Your name_

_Blessed be the name of the Lord, blessed Your glorious name_

_You give and take away, You give and take away_

_My heart will choose to say, Lord blessed be Your name. _

In the middle of the song, the door burst open. Several stood up and cried out in alarm. A young woman, about Fae's age, stood there for a moment scanning the room and gasping for breath. Her eyes fell on Fae and the princess knew her disguise was useless. She bit her lip and held the gaze. The young woman walked towards Fae and their eyes locked. As she strode towards her, Corben grabbed the girl's arm:

"Lauren! What are you doing? Where have you been girl?" he cried, but the young woman ignored him and shook off his hand.

She stopped just in front of Fae and stood there, looking down on her with an unreadable expression. Fae felt the need to stand, and did so, though she knew not why. They stood there like that for several minutes; the rest of the room grew deathly silent. Finally, Lauren moved and in one quick motion, ripped Fae's head covering off and threw it to the ground. There was a collective gasp as Fae's dirty, knotted hair fell onto her neck and into her face.

"This is an imposter!" The young woman said loudly, kicking the piece of cloth away from her feet and addressing the rest of the room. "She pretends to be a boy, a dirty, poor Terebinthian with not even a name. But she is not like us. Do you not see her green eyes? The lightness of her hair? Yet she is certainly a Terebinthian, her faces is like ours, her hands, her throat. Who is she? Why is she here, gaping and appalled at the way her people live in their own country? I'll tell you who this woman is!" She turned back to face Fae. "This, my family and my friends, this is our princess."

Lauren knelt a Fae's feet while Fae and the rest of the room gaped. Then slowly, those who'd been standing fell to their knees. Those who'd been sitting lowered their faces to the ground. But Fae would not let them kneel. She pulled Lauren up, then anyone who was near her.

"No, no, please don't. My people, my dear people, please don't. I don't deserve it. Please don't."

Soon the room was soon righted and buzzing with excitement. Everyone wanted to touch her, to speak to her, to clasp her hand and kiss her feet (she didn't let them). After a while, Lauren pulled her away.

"I will take you to the home of Galen, the real Galen, now. Aden Zahir has spread the word that you have come, your people will help you get to the tower. There you will be reunited with your friends and your love. Come."

Lauren led Fae to a small set of stairs which emerged on the roof of the house. From the roof they climbed a ladder to the roof of the next house. Once they were on that roof, Lauren presented Fae with a long pole.

"Using this pole, you are going to get to that roof," she pointed at a roof across the ally. "Alright?"

"How?"

"I will show you."

Then, in a way that would remind us of pole vaulting, she flew onto the rooftop. Fae stared in amazement. Then mustering up all her courage, she ran, stabbed at the roof with her pole and threw herself into the air. There was a weightless feeling for a moment and then a thud as she landed. Using learned acrobatics she somersaulted instead of breaking her skull open. She lay there, breathless, trying unsuccessfully to make the stars stop spinning. Lauren's face loomed over her.

"Are you alright?"

Fae sat up, ignoring the spinning of the tiled roof beneath her feet. "Yes. I'm fine. Again then?"

In that manner they made for the palace. Fae got better at it and just as the moon rose they were climbing back to the ground and sneaking through the winding streets, running towards the palace. Lauren finally stopped just before a large stone tower that stood within a stone's throw of the palace walls.

"This is it," she whispered before the two snaked their way to the door.

Lauren whistled softly and the tune was repeated from within. Lauren replied with another whistle. A moment later the door was opened and they were whisked inside by none other than:

"Aden!" Fae cried in delight hugging the young man fiercely. "Where are the others?" she wanted to know.

"Upstairs." He pointed to a spiral staircase and Fae nearly flew up it.

The room, once she got to it, was big a round and had tall, thin windows that barely let in any moonlight. It was dimly lit by a few candles. She saw her sword in the middle of the room, and felt the pulsations it gave off. She guessed it was from being so close to the palace. She saw Kiran sleeping on the floor and across the room were other sleeping forms. Leaning against a window was Peter.

She said his name breathlessly and ran to him. He turned when he heard his name and nearly shouted for joy when he saw her. In a second she was wrapped up in his arms and he was kissing her and stroking her hair and thinking he was never going to let her out of his sight again. You see, he had been terribly scared that he was never going to see his wife again. Aden and Lauren made it up the stairs soon and after Aden had cleared his throat they separated.

"Princess, it is time," Aden said. Fae nodded and went to her sword. She felt it hum, almost in content when she picked it up and strapped the sheath to her waist.

Kiran was roused and soon the five of them left. Lauren seemed to join the group effortlessly; at least, no one asked why she was going. As they walked towards the palace gate, Fae saw the magic shield around the huge structure. She hadn't been able to see it during the day, the sunlight was too strong, but now, in the moonlight, she saw it. The air seemed to sparkle, but not if you looked at one place too long. It was almost as if a bubble encompassed the palace, but Fae wasn't sure, because she never saw it long enough to make its definite shape out. The bubble extended past the foot of the walls about a hand span, so no one could actually touch the palace at all. Aden said that the bubble was impenetrable, and showed them. He touched it with one finger and was all but thrown away from it, as if he were a rubber ball being bounced against a brick wall. Fae couldn't figure out how she was going to get inside the bubble unlock the gates. Too soon, they reached the gates. They were tall and broad and had no apparent lock or handles or anything.

Fae looked at the wall of magic for a long time, her hands and feet were tingling. With a strange look on her face, she walked to the edge of the bubble, reaching out to touch it. Aden cried out in alarm, but Peter silenced him; somehow he knew she would not be injured. Fae's hand met the bubble and there was a small flash of light. The tingling in her fingers increased even more, but she was not hurt. She tried to walk through it, the bubble wouldn't let her. It was as if she were walking into a brick wall. Stepping back she surveyed it.

"It needs to be popped," she whispered, drawing her sword. It shone and the air around it thrummed. It seemed to gather up moonlight. Fae raised it above her head and stabbed the bubble fiercely.

There was a flash of light and slowly, the sparkling air drew back. Fae lowered her sword and drew back, her hand finding Peter's. All around, the magic was wadding up and retreating to a big ball in the middle of the circle of the palace walls. It hovered there until all the magic had been wrapped up into that ball. And then the ball fell from the sky. There was an explosion. Everyone except Fae fell over like bowling pins when a light like a sunburst blew open the gates and knocked into them. The sword seemed to suck all the light up in a matter of moments and then all was dark, except for the sword, which was glowing fiercely. The whole thing had lasted less than ten seconds. The gates stood wide open.

"Oh..." Was the only thing Fae could say.


	21. 25

**Author's Note: **Hey there kids, long time, no see...Sorry. I have nothing to say for this chapter. What I will say is that the next one WILL be longer, I swear. My thanks again Raine Ishida and brezzybrez. Until next time!

**Chapter 31**

_In Which There Is a Lot of Talk and Plans Are Made_

The next morning was spent in brief exploration of the palace and a search for room to put all the Narnian soldiers. The main courtyard was a huge, open tiled hallway of sorts that was flanked on both sides by large marble pillars that held up a roof over more open space. The outdoor hallway led to thick, wooden doors that were untouched by the years that had passed. In fact, the entire palace was entirely untouched by time. Everything was as it had been when Rhoswen left; at least, that's what she said. Within those wooden doors was what Peter assumed to be the Great Hall, and at the end of the hall were two thrones. This hall had several arched doorways lining its walls and there were long, straight balconies circling the upper half of the walls. Through the arched doorways they found rooms upon rooms, so many rooms that Fae lost count after awhile. She was reminded of her dream as they went through other hallways, much small than the Great Hall, opening doors and closing them, looking briefly, then moving on.

It was Kiran who came across the armory and Lauren who found the kitchens (which were located conveniently close to the Great Hall). What amazed everyone in the group was that the kitchens were still well stocked. None of the food had decayed, nor was it stale. Aden was the brave one who took a bite from a loaf of bread sitting on the counter. He smiled broadly after swallowing and proclaimed it edible and fresh. All within the magic bubble had been perfectly preserved.

They were eating breakfast when a terrific clamor arose from the Great Hall. The five left their meal hurriedly and ran to the huge room, their swords drawn (except for Lauren, who wasn't permitted to have a weapon by Lone Islander law). The Narnians, led by Rhoswen, met them, huffing and puffing after their long climb up the underground staircase. The place soon began to buzz with activity as Peter consulted Aslan, Kiran and Aden directed the generals who directed their battalions, and soon the Great Hall was a maze of bodies weaving in and out trying to carry out their assigned duties.

Rhoswen took Fae and the three men to be bathed and dressed in clean clothes. Fae (who'd brought ample clothing with her from Narnia) chose to wear traditional Terebinthian clothing, which was flowing and loose and draped and tied to the body and included a veil that was pinned to the hair and cascaded to the middle of the thigh. She didn't dress as a princess, that would come later, but as a common girl. Fae felt at home in this strange clothing, she loved how the cloth flowed around her, enjoyed the way the veil floated behind her when she moved. Peter opted for regular Narnian clothing, but Kiran and Aden appeared in full Terebinthian garb when they met later that afternoon to discuss what would happen next.

Just after they bathed Aslan called them to an oblong room that Rhoswen recalled as a strategy room where battles had been planned a decade ago. Now they (By 'they' I mean Peter, Fae, Kiran, Aden, Lauren, Edmund, Lysander, Rhoswen, and Suleiman Siamak.) all sat around a huge table that had a three dimensional map of Terebinthia and the surrounding islands in the middle of it. Aslan sat at the head of the table, looking upon them with love in his eyes. They were a fine group of people, strong and courageous and founded on love. Anyone could see that they were all connected by love, though, perhaps not directly. To Aslan's right sat Fae, Peter behind her, resting his hand on her shoulder. Fae was staring at Rhoswen and Suleiman, who sat next to each other on Aslan's left. Suleiman Siamak was looking at Aden and Lauren, wondering when a relationship had grown between the two and how he'd missed it. Aden, whose arm was around Lauren's waist, was laughing at the antics of Edmund and Kiran. The two young men were a picture of camaraderie and friendship as they arm wrestled good naturedly. Edmund won and was favored with a brotherly grin of approval from Peter. It was a full circle. Lysander spoke softly from behind him:

"They have an unbreakable bond, Sire. It will be hard for the enemy."

"Yes, but let's not underestimate him. He is stronger than we know."

Their quiet murmuring had drawn the attention of those gathered 'round the table. They were all staring at them, suddenly silent. Aslan turned his great, golden head to them and favored them with a smile and a bone-rattling chuckle.

"What is it Aslan?" Peter ventured to ask.

"You all are better than I had hoped," he replied allusively. Those at the table looked at him quizzically, but no one asked what he'd meant. Instead, Aslan directed a question to Aden.

"Tell us about our enemy. Who is it that shall we fight, O, True Terebinthian?" Aden paused to think before he replied, and when he did, he spoke slowly:

"The enemy is not the Lone Islander, at least not the average Lone Islander. It's the Calormens that give them their strength, their power over us," he continued as if thinking out loud. "I think the Lone Islanders hired the Calormens in the beginning, but they are a weak people and are happy to let the Calormens have control. I would go far enough to say that the Lone Islanders would leave Terebinthia alone, but the Calormens won't let them..."

He trailed off, looking to Aslan for affirmation.

"You are wise beyond your years," Aslan said with a smile. He asked another question, this time to Lauren: "Is it correct to assume that the Lone Islanders are afraid?"

"They aren't now...but that's because they don't know the Narnians are here," replied Lauren. "None of them have ever seen a centaur or a faun. They believe Narnians to be ruthless, barbarian killers. Your presence alone would be enough to terrify them out of their wits."

"That is good. Suleiman, how strong is the Calormen army here?"

"Your numbers are greater."

"That too is good." He turned his great head back to where Lauren and Aden sat and addressed the girl, "I would like you to go and spread the word that the Princess and heir to the throne has returned and that her coronation ceremony will be held in three days. Tell everyone you meet and send messengers to tell every True Terebinthian she is here. Tell of the great army she has brought to save her people with. Tell them to come to the palace and meet their long awaited Queen. Their masters will let them, not one shall be harmed or detained. Go as soon as night falls."

"Yes Sir." Lauren replied with a genuine smile of delight.

And after that there was much military jargon that I didn't understand and you will most likely not understand either. Therefore I will refrain from telling you word for word what they said. They spent several hours locked away in that room, discussing what should be done next. Without a lot of flourishes this is what was finally decided: There was not going to be a war after all. At least, not if they could help it. They were rather hoping that the Narnians (who, you remember, rule the Lone Islands) in their mass numbers would scare the Lone Islander all the way back to the Lone Islands. So, they set a day where Fae, with Peter and Aslan by her side, would send word to Abbat Shiram the so-called Emperor of Terebinthia that she wanted to parley. Once he arrived at the palace, she would threaten him within an inch of his life and pray he and his weak people would leave peaceably.

As they made these plans the rest of the Narnian army set up a camp of sorts in the courtyard of the palace. They had to be very quiet, there was no yelling, no loud laughter, lest someone outside hear them. No camp fires were allowed, nor any of the bright pennants that the Narnians flew from the tops of their tents. From the outside the palace still looked as untouched as it had for the past seventeen years. Yet in spite of all their efforts to remain inconspicuous, they didn't take any noticed of the little raven that circled the palace several times before flying towards the dark heart of Terebinthia's one swamp on the other side of the island.


	22. 26

**Author's Note: **If you want to hear the long drawn out story of why I haven't updated since…yikes, July, PM me and I'll tell you. Well, I'll probably just complain to you. Anyway, I'm here and here's a chapter.

Chapter 32

_In Which There is a Glimpse of the Villain and Fae Is Crowned _

Talking birds are not, and never have been common to Terebinthia. Talking ravens are rare, even in Narnia. This was explained to me once and I shall explain it to you. You see, when Aslan gave the gift of speech to animals, he told them the could no longer act like animals. The ravens disregarded this and used their gift of speech unwisely. Therefore Aslan began to take away there voices. Soon there were very few speaking ravens.

This raven was like his ancestors through and through, flippant with his speech and down right evil to boot. He had been captured by a terrible man, a Calormene, once the most trusted vizier of the Tisroc. But this man betrayed the Tisroc and the Tisroc banished him from Calormen. This disgustingly evil man lived in the deep dark swamps on the far southern side of Terebinthia and right now he was not happy.

"And of course the idiot scouts would let her pass right by. Wonderful! Just wonderful!" He kicked a chair over and it broke. "The blasted princess is here. Perfect. Couldn't just go off and die in slavery now could she?" He grabbed a table and overturned it, scattering deadly devices over the floor. "Why didn't Lakshmi kill her when she had the chance? I gave her enough power! Honestly!" He grabbed a sinister looking book and threw it out the dirty window. "And the snakes, you'd think three would be plenty!" He tipped his head back and let out a hideous yell. "One measly little princess with a prehistoric sword…She should be dead! Why isn't she dead?!"

The raven, who'd been watching the tirade silently, didn't dare venture to answer.

"Is there anything else you stupid beast?" He asked, running his hand through his black hair, his dark eyes flashing viciously.

"Word spreads about the princess, Master. Most Terebinthians know, soon their masters will know and they will be afraid of her and the army she has brought. Your rule here is bound to fall."

"NO! You dastardly, lying, disgusting piece of filth! What you say shall not come to pass! Go! Get Abbat Shiram. Tell him if he doesn't come I'll kill him. Out of my sight! NOW!"

The bird had already left its perch.

The next morning the palace came to life as the sun rose over the island. A large, well dressed woman was going to visit her sister on the other side of the city and left at dawn with two of her slave girls in tow. Fog covered the ground and the sunlight was weak as they proceeded past the palace walls. All three cried out when a massive centaur dressed in splendid colors appeared atop one of the walls. The large woman fainted when another appeared further along the wall. The two slave girls clung to each other when one emerged from the fog and stood before them. They wept when he beckoned them to come to the palace, proclaiming their freedom.

The two salves girls started a flood. By ten o'clock Terebinthians were streaming through the palace gates. The Lone Islanders of the city locked their doors and hid in their cellars as Terebinthians swarmed the streets, making a pilgrimage to the palace. They shook when they heard the songs their once-slaves sang, fearing they were war songs. They cried out when they heard the steady beats of the drums the Terebinthians played. They gave their slaves gold and silver and jewels. Some of the Terebinthians rode horses, others rode in carts laden with the sudden generosity of their once-masters. They who were slaves came to the palace with the riches of nobles.

I was told you could hear them before you saw them. Drums, flutes, tambourines, fiddles, small harps, and lyres filled the air with music. Those who didn't have an instrument sang and danced. One person would start a song and it would spread like wildfire until all the people lining the streets were singing it. Their joy covered the city and struck fear into the hearts of the Lone Islanders. Their singing turned into tears, then in to laughter, then back to singing when they entered the palace gates.

Fae was one of the first people they saw when they were welcomed into the courtyard. In commoner's garb she was just a Terebinthian who'd come earlier than the others. She clasped hands and carried things for grandmothers and danced with children and cooed over babies and when she knew songs, she sang just as loudly as her people did. Their joy made hers complete.

Later in the day when the stream ebbed to a trickle, she and Peter walked through the throngs. She'd often pause to chat with the gossiping old women, or to listen in on the stories the old men were telling. She'd hold babies whose mothers were busy and she joined the children in games of tag and duck, duck, goose. Peter would often drop back and just watch her, stepping in between her and the gaze of anyone who looked at her too long, his hand resting lightly on the place where his dagger was strapped to his belt. At one point, he pulled her aside and out of anyone else's earshot.

"You should be careful you know."

"Careful of what? The children?"

"You have no way of knowing if there are spies in that throng of people…What if one of them notices you look different from the rest of these people?"

"What if there aren't any spies?"

"There's a very good possibility," he brushed a lock of hair off her face. "I don't want you getting hurt."

Her eyes, which had become rather annoyed, softened some. She smiled and leaned her head against the hand that still rested on her cheek.

"Always my knight." She stood on tiptoe to kiss his nose. "I love you."

He pulled her close and held her for a brief moment. "I love you too," he whispered into her hair.

"I'll be fine as long as you're here. You promised." She said with a smile as she pulled away. "Come on."

Peter nodded and smiled, ignoring the feeling that he was being watched.

The days until her coronation passed quickly and the palace was buzzing with activity. By now everyone on the island new the princess had returned and that she was going to be coronated that night. Everyone wanted to see her, everyone wanted to touch her, but only a few knew who she was. Fae wasn't about to tell them either. She liked being inconspicuous, even with Peter following her wherever she went. She liked to visit fires and tents and share meals with happy families with anyone clamoring around her.

Momentarily though, she was in her room, staring at her people from the window. It was dark and their fires sparkled on the ground. Not many were awake now, she guessed it was because most were getting a few hours of rest before the ceremony, like she should've been. She turned away from the window towards the bed. Moonlight caressed his face and the arm that had been wrapped around her waist was still stretched over the sheets, waiting for her to return. _He will always be waiting…Alone._

The sudden, unbidden thought seemed to punch her in the stomach. Her breath caught in her constricted throat and suddenly she couldn't inhale. She tried to keep her fight for air silent, but she knocked into a small table and a decorative silver vase fell to the white marble floor with a clang that, of course, woke Peter.

He was at her side in an instant, brushing the hair away from her face, holding her near as she struggled. When it finally ended she fell into his arms, panting and light headed and with tears streaming down her cheeks. The unbearable thought still filled her head and it had infiltrated her heart, pain squeezed it like fist and she couldn't make it go away. She clung to him, nestling her head against his shoulder, as if she could hide herself from it.

It didn't occur to Peter that there was anything wrong, that she was just worn out and scared after another bad experience. He scooped her up in a fluid motion and carried her to back to bed, humming a sweet song into her ear and cradling her close.

She waited until his breathing had evened and deepened before she lifted her head from his shoulder. She spent the hours until Rhoswen came to help her prepare for the ceremony staring at him, drinking him in, loving the curve of his lips and the way his eyelashes rested against cheeks, adoring every bit of stubble and each stray hair.

Rhoswen's knock stirred her awhile later and thus preparations for the ceremony began. Her fingers shook as she donned her royal garb, a sapphire blue dress with square neckline and wide sleeves trimmed in gold and a flowing skirt. She was wrapped in a piece of sheer, garnet colored material also trimmed in gold and a veil made of woven gold was placed over her head and secured with sapphire and ruby studded combs. She refused the other jewels that Rhoswen brought for her arms and ankles and throat.

She emerged from her room about an hour before sunrise, holding onto Peter with one hand and Rhoswen with the other. Aslan met them when they reached balcony every queen of Terebinthia had been crowned from. Peter gave her hand a squeeze and stepped into the background. Rhoswen left her side to stand in a previously designated spot. Fae sank her hand into Aslan's silky mane and hung on tightly. The Great Lion smiled at her quaking hands.

"Are you ready?"

"No…But I'm going to do my absolute best."

"That's all you need. I will be with you."

His sweet peace infiltrated her body and she turned to face her people.

_ I forgot! MERRY CHRISTMAS! God bless and keep you, etc… _


	23. 27

Author's Note:_ Thank you to Readerfreak10 and brezzybrez for remembering me after all these months! Thanks to all my silent readers too! __I'll hopefully have another chapter out soon. Have fun kids!_

Chapter 33

_In Which an Emperor is De-Throne and then Killed_

The so-called Emperor of Terebinthia Abbat Shiram had begged for a parley and now he was approaching the palace in the most regal way possible. He wore the finest clothing that were available: brightly colored silks studded with jewels, brocades embellished with embroidery in gold and silver, a huge ostrich feather that was tucked into his red silk turban. His horse was all black and at least seventeen hands tall. He was escorted by the Lone Islander lords he'd appointed himself, all dressed almost as regally as he. He was preceded by a crier and several trumpeters. He was a picture of wealth and power as he reached the huge gate by which he was to enter the palace.

He was trembling like a leaf in a hurricane.

Fae had gotten his request for a parley the day after she was crowned queen by Aslan. Now she awaited his arrival outside, seated in a beautifully carved mahogany chair that was cushioned with pillows of brocade and velvet and perched a top a grand staircase. The sun beamed at her through transparent awnings of garnet-colored gossamer and bathed her in a warm red glow.

She looked majestic in a gown of purple and gold and far more powerful than she felt wearing the ancient, but delicate golden crown that had belonged to every queen of Terebinthia, a chiffon veil of the deepest amethyst hanging from the back of her head. Every bit a queen, Rhoswen had said that morning, and Fae had smiled weakly and gripped her skirts to keep her hands from shaking so. Now she put on her sternest, most regal face in preparation for her contender's approach.

She was flanked by Peter (who thought she looked lovely) and Edmund, both dressed to the nines in regal Narnian fare. Her army, both Terebinthian and Narnian, lined the steps with Lysander and Suleiman Siamak of the steps just beneath her, both looking positively fearsome.

Of course, Aslan was there too. The living gold of his mane put the jewels on both rulers of Terebinthia to shame, but he stood off to the side where he was not immediately noticeable. He'd reassured Fae that he would intervene if absolutely necessary, but had firmly insisted she handle it on her own.

She rose slowly from her chair when Abbat Shiram finally made it to the top step, winded and sweating, for although he'd taken his sweet time escalating the steps, it had taken a while and the day was rather warm. She did not curtsy, nor did he bow before her. It was a silent stare down for several tense seconds, each sizing the other up.

"Abbat Shiram, he who calls himself Emperor of this island, it is well that we have met here and not on a battlefield. Perhaps this way we can avoid any further bloodshed." Her voice was firm and dripping with graciousness she did not feel, her words precise and well-measured. "You will listen to my accusations and my terms and I pray, will comply. When I am done, I will leave your fate to Peter, High King of Narnia, Emperor of the Lone Islands, whom you are subject unto. Is this well met?"

"It is."

"Very well." She sat back down in her seat, grateful that he'd given in so easily. Abbat Shiram shifted his weight uncomfortably.

"A seat, my lady?" Fae's eyebrows arched.

"You may kneel."

His face turned three shades of red and anger seemed to boil in his eyes. His hand reached for his sword belt, which wasn't there. Unfortunately for him her entire army's hands reflected his action, and they all wore swords. He gulped, fear replacing his anger. Needless to say he remained standing.

"Now then," she started, pulling a small piece of paper from her sleeve. "The accusations against you are far to many to name and if I even listed the first quarter, I'm afraid we'd be here until next week. Therefore, I've narrowed them down to four dastardly deeds. The first accusation is this: Attacking a country that was on peaceful terms with you, in a most cowardly way, that way being in the middle of the night. Second: Killing the reigning queen and king and nearly all the people within their castle. Third: Falsely naming yourself emperor of the land, even though the true ruler was still alive and well, though forced into exile. Fourth and final: Enslaving, buying and selling the people of this country against their will and violating the rights of humankind. Do you acknowledge that these four dastardly deeds were done by yourself or by your order?"

"Except for the killing of the king and queen, that wasn't my idea and _I_ certainly didn't want that," he blathered. "_I_ was simply going to banish them to some unpopulated islands out in the middle of the sea. Killing them, now, that was all _him_."

Fae seemed taken aback by this. Peter saw the nearly imperceptible tremor run through her and wanted to reach out to her, to offer her his strength. He couldn't of course, but moved closer to her chair and willed strength into her bones.

"Who? I demand that you tell me."

"You don't know?"

Was that a smirk Peter saw on the cowards lips? If only he could slap it off. The hand on the hilt of his sword twitched. Abbat Shiram must have felt the heat of his glare, for the smirk was quickly erased.

"Tell me now."

Peter hadn't realized her voice could sound that way: so steely, so dark, so very angry. The man before them melted at the tone, apparently rather shaken.

"Khortdad Kedar, once hailed the vizier to the Tisroc of Calormen. That is, the dead one. His son's ruling now. Really it was all his idea to invade the country and rule it. It's his Calormenes that are here too. _I _certainly didn't invite the brutes. Their idea for the slavery bit too. Big money back in Calormen."

"I see. Thank you for divulging such important news." Her voice was no longer so abnormal, for which Peter was thankful. "But still those terrible things happened whilst you were in power, however false it may have been. Therefore the responsibility falls on your shoulders, are you still willing to hear my terms?"

"My options other than doing so would be certain death? I will hear them."

"And here they are: First, as your last act as Emperor of Terebinthia tell your people that they are to repay their Terebinthian slaves for their years of hard labor three times and the punishment for not complying will be an indentured servantship of three years to the lowest pig farmer in Terebinthia. Second, you will tell them that I am the rightful queen of Terebinthia and will be for here on out and that you are a fraud and a fake and have been from the beginning."

Abbat Shiram began to interrupt, a look of great dismay on his face. He was silence by cutting looks from all those surrounding him. Fae paused briefly, almost daring him to speak. He seemed to have decided against it.

"Third: you will then gather up all the Lone Islanders who are opposed to living beneath a Terebinthian queen and without slaves and take them back to the Lone Islands. Fourth: you will send my people who are enslaved in your country back to Terebinthia in a ship where they will be treated as royalty for the voyage. Fifth: you will use your own resources to find every single Terebinthian sold into Calormene slavery and buy them from their master and send them back to Terebinthian soil in the same manner as you did the enslaved ones in the Lone Islands."

She stopped, letting the words sink in, watching the man weigh them.

"I will give you the night to think these terms over, although a prudent man would need no longer than a trice. You may give me your answer in the morning. I now turn you over to your sovereigns, Peter, High King of Narnia and King Edmund the Just."

And with that she rose and her army cheered. A dizziness she'd not experienced since she was in Narnia briefly clouded her mind, but she hid it well. She smiled at her people and gave the Lone Islander a final, curt nod before sweeping into the palace, followed by Rhoswen, Suleiman, and Lysander.

Once she was behind closed doors she found a pillar and hung onto it for dear life. The marble felt cool against her burning cheek and was a stable force against her raw nerves. The two men stayed a respectful distance away, swords ready in case of an intrusion. Rhoswen approached her on silent feet.

"Dear child…" she whispered, wrapping her arms around her niece from behind. "Whatever is the matter?"

Fae spun around and collapsed into her aunt's arms.

"Oh Rhoswen! That was awful! I felt so unreal, like I was pretending, like no one would ever imagine me to be a real queen. And I made such a jumble of my words and lost my composure and, oh, it was horrible!" She lay her head on the older woman's shoulder and nearly wept with frustration.

"Oh no, dear. Not at all. You handled everything very, very well. Not magnanimous, but it was your first time. And you were facing the man that killed your parents and took over your country. Give yourself some credit, dear."

Fae's head flew up and she broke free from Rhoswen's embrace.

"But he didn't kill them! It was all that…Cork-something or other who did…What do we do now? That killer is still out there and he still wants me dead!"

"Hush dear," Rhoswen crooned, gathering her back into her arms. "You are perfectly, wonderfully safe now. No one would dare try and kill you here, you're too well protected. Be at peace within. You are safe."

Fae lay her head back on Rhoswen's shoulder in resignation, ignoring the gnawing fear that had settled into her stomach.

"Fae!" Peter said softly.

His wife rolled over and curled into the warmth of his body, burying her face in his chest. Peter smiled and kissed the top of her head before pulling away from her.

"Fae, wake up. There's important news."

She grumbled at him and pulled the blankets over her head.

"What is it?" she finally asked, her voice muffled by the bed clothes.

"Abbat Shiram is dead."

She threw of the blankets and sat up, her eyes wide and her face a picture of shock.

"What?"

"Abbat Shiram is dead. At least, that's what the men outside the room are saying."

"How? When? Why?"

"I don't know. Just now. I haven't the slightest idea. Shall we find out?"

Fae lay back down on the bed heavily, her immense displeasure evident on her face.

"I suppose it would be the royal thing to do."

"Indeed."

She sat up again and tossed the blankets from her body. She walked to the tall wardrobe and pulled the door open, then paused.

"Peter, does one take time to get dressed during this sort of issue or would it be better to run down there straight away in our pajamas?"

"Well, you probably won't get any more sleep tonight, but this is a rather urgent matter, so I would say pop on your crown and if everything isn't settled by dawn, at least you'll have an excuse to slip away from the chaos and get dressed."

"Good idea."

So they both donned robes and crowns and made their way outside.

Abbat Shiram had chosen to go to the home of one of his lords that lived in the city while thinking his decision over. He'd been accompanied by two Narnian soldiers, a centaur and a leopard, both sides promising that neither would make an attack. The centaur had opted to guard the door to the man's room and the leopard was to guard the window to the room. Both, of course, had Lone Islanders with them so as to ensure there was fair play.

Apparently, sometime during the night there had been a big commotion in the room, like the dishonored emperor had thrown a table with glass figurines on it into the wall or had knocked over a china cabinet. Both the Narnian and the Lone Islander had assumed that it was just a fit of temper and had chosen not to do anything.

Then there was a terrible scream and the sounds of a struggle of some sort. The whole was over in a matter of seconds, the Narnian reported. By the time the two got into the room it was in shambles and the Emperor was dead. Not only dead but terribly warped and disfigured, apparently whoever had killed him had been very mad for one reason or another.

It didn't take Fae and Peter long to get to the house. The lord of the house thought they both looked a little worse for the wear after a night ride through the city's winding streets. Nevertheless, he was very happy to see them, for he had no idea what to do with his dead ruler and was terribly frightened because of the whole ordeal.

He greeted them with the respect they were do, recognizing Peter as his sovereign and apologizing to Fae for his country's misdeeds. She rather thought she liked the redheaded man who didn't seem at all like the other Lone Islanders she'd met (Although, frankly she'd only met a few. Generally they were good folk, with a few bad eggs, as any race is bound to.)

He quickly ushered them into the house, apologizing for the lateness of the hour and explaining that he thought it would be best if the issue were handled quickly. He brought them to the room, his hands shaking as he pushed open the door.

"Good lady and queen, I pray this doesn't scar your delicate heart as it has mine," he said, showing them the interior of the room.

It was indeed a disaster. The bedclothes were ripped from the bed and every other piece of furniture was upset and there was more or less blood everywhere. I will spare you the gruesome details, but know that Peter saw the corpse first and it was so terrible that he quickly put his body between Fae and it because it was a most horrid thing. She caught sight of the dead man's disfigured face before Peter blocked her, and that was enough to make her sick to her stomach. She clutched Peters arms until her knuckles were as white as her face.

"Who in the world would do something like this?" she whispered, looking into Peter's face for reassurance.

He could give her none, couldn't even answer her question. Instead he gently turned her away from him, intending to guide her out of the room. The redheaded lord turned back to the door as well, but stopped in his tracks. Likewise, neither Fae, nor Peter had moved. They all stood stock still, shocked.

I'm sure you'd like to know the reason, so I'll tell you what was Peter described to me. It seems that a writing quill had appeared out of nowhere and it was writing on the wall with dark red liquid, what everyone guessed was blood. The writing was large and elegant and here's what it said.

A WARNING TO THE QUEEN.

And beneath it was the sign that Fae had come to dread. The sign that she'd first seen when her life had been threatened with slavery. She saw it again when she was attacked by Lakshmi, Lady of the Lone Islands and it had been worn by all of her other attackers since.

I'm glad to say that she didn't faint. She and the two men all turned an odd shade of grey, whether out of fear or horror or whatnot, I don't know. It's needless for me to say that they all ran from the room as soon as the writing stopped and that they didn't stay at that house any longer than absolutely necessary.

By the time dawn had approached things had more or less been straightened out. It took much convincing and several testimonies for the Lone Islanders to believe what had happened. There were many accusations and if it weren't for the redhead lord (by name of Absalom Hafiz) and his repeated testimony of the writing on the wall I highly doubt that any of the Narnians would have made it back to Narnia. Some were rather skeptical, but resigned. The emperor was dead. The Narnians had not killed him. They were going back to the Lone Islands. There were a great many other details to be sorted through, but for the most part people had the general idea of things.

Finally Peter announced that everything would reconvene at noon, and the rest of the

details concerning the Lone Islanders would be decided.

Fae hadn't said more than was absolutely necessary all morning. Since it was all technically under Peter's jurisdiction, she hadn't needed to. Even in the safety of their room, she didn't say a word. Silently she splashed cold water on her face and dried it. Silently she selected a fresh dress and put it on. Silently she brushed out her hair. Her eyes were listless and her face was void of emotion.

Peter watched her, concerned. He didn't know what to do, so he went to her and wrapped his arms around her from behind. The brush clattered to the floor and she clung to the folds of his nightshirt. She didn't cry. He didn't croon to her like he normally would have. He'd never seen her quite like this. She wasn't hurt or frightened or angry or any other emotion he'd encountered. He couldn't make any promises, couldn't say everything would be alright. He didn't know if it would. For the first time, he realized that everything he'd crooned before had been hollow, even though he'd meant them he'd had no right to make such promises. He found there was only one thing he could say with absolute certainty.

"I love you. And beyond that Aslan loves you. There's nothing else you, or I, need to know. Everything is in his plan."

"I couldn't have said it better myself."

"Oh Aslan…" Fae spoke for the first time. The Great Lion came further in through the doorway, which seemed to have shrank in his presence. He smiled softly at them.

"Come to me, both of you. I have important news."

"What is it?" Peter asked.

Aslan walked toward the window overlooking the courtyard. The two followed him and without looking at him, the Lion spoke:

"I'm afraid I have to go away." He continued, silencing their cries of protest, "I must petition my Father for something of incredible value. It is crucial that I go."

"But…" Fae began.

"My plan, child. You must trust me. I am with you always, even unto the end of the age. I may not be with you in physical form, but I dwell within you. Both of you. Trust in me and my plan. Do you understand?"

She nodded, not opening her mouth lest her fears tumble from her lips. Peter gripped her hand hard and repeated her action, not wanting him to leave, but knowing there was nothing he could do.

"You have incredible power within you. Don't forget to use it. Faith can move mountains. Love is the strongest substance in this world or any other. You will need both very presently. Come to me, and draw strength from me."

They didn't need further prompting. Both wrapped their arms around him and clung to him fiercely. He breathed on them and gave them both great lion kisses and his presence worked it's wonderful magic. After a very long while they let go and he turned to leave.

"Aslan!"

He paused. Fae's voice trembled only a little when she voiced her question:

"When will you leave?"

"Before nightfall."


	24. 28

**Author's Note: **Okay guys, I think I've only two or three chapters to go, this one was definitely the hardest for me to write and I'm not going to lie, I'm glad it's over. Thank you bookworm2011, Readerfreak10, brezzybrez, and Rainey for their reviews. Have a great week guys!

Chapter 34

_In Which There is a Lot of Faith and Love and Magic_

The raven watched his master in silent confusion. The night before he'd went on a rampage when finding that Abbat Shiram had gone to the palace instead of to him. The entire swamp had rang with his curses. Then early in the morning he'd done some terrible magic, the sort that was full of long harsh words and left the house smelling awful. Now he was sitting placidly still, his entire body relaxed. His eyes were open, but rolled back into his head and something akin to a pleasured smile rested on his lips.

"My master, what has come to put your turbulent heart at ease?"

The ex-vizier's eyes slipped back to their normal position, a perpetual frown, annoyance flitting across his face. Then he smiled in delight, flexing his hands.

"She is afraid. I can feel it. I feed off of her fear. It makes me strong."

OoOoOo

Aslan was gone. The entire country seemed to feel the vacuum of his sudden absence, for the wind started blowing and clouds began to roll in over the island nation. The strong breezes raided the hall that the Terebinthians, Narnians and Lone Islanders were meeting in and did its best to reek havoc. Fae especially felt the emptiness he left, but was at a strange peace within herself. The strength the Great Lion had bequeathed on them still flowed in her veins and even though she wished he would've stayed, for the first time in a long time she felt at peace.

OoOoOo

Khortdad Kedar felt her peace and his world shattered.

"NO! No! No! No! I won't stand for it. How could she possibly be so peaceful! So horribly at ease? It simply isn't natural! I have to do something soon…"

He glared at the setting sun, a plan beginning to formulate in his mind.

OoOoOo

The negotiations finally came to a cessation. The Lone Islanders weren't thrilled, but they hadn't ever been. Peter had named Absalom Hafiz (who'll you remember was the decent chap with whom Abbat Shiram was staying when he was killed) the governor of the Lone Islands and he and his line were good and true to Narnia for years to come. One of his very distant and several times removed relatives became the Governor Gompas who only retained the trait of red hair from his ancestor. But that's another story in another book, which everyone ought to read if they care anything for tales of the sea.

Several other matters were discussed throughout the course of the day, such topics as taxes and fealty and inter-island commerce. Frankly I didn't find them much interesting and I really don't think you would either, therefore I shall refrain from boring you with them. There are far more important events which we still have to get to.

OoOoOo

A clap of thunder jarred Fae roughly from her sleep. She shivered and in a flash of lightening saw the reason for the sudden cold: One of the windows had blown open. With a sigh of discontent she stood and padded across the cool marble to the window. After a little effort, she managed to close it, but got herself soaked in the process. Grumbling she changed into a fresh nightgown, despairing over the sleep she wasn't getting. Just as she was about to climb back into bed, there was a rather loud crash just outside her door. She paused, listening for the guards over the storm.

She didn't hear anything.

With learned caution she reached for her sword and silently strapped it on. She glanced at Peter, not wanting to disrupt his sleep for no reason, breathed a prayer that all would be well and went to the door.

She located the source of the crash easily enough: an ornate figurine had been blown over. Yet another window stood wide open, allowing the storm to blown on in. What she didn't find were the guards. She turned back to her room:

"Pete---"

Her cry died on her lips when she saw a tall, black figure illuminated by lightening emerge from the shadows.

"Don't waste your breath young Queen. None shall hear you. There's a sleeping spell on the entire area."

"Who are you?" She prayed he was who she was thinking.

"I would so love to go through formal introductions and see the fear course through your lovely body when you hear my name, but then I wouldn't get to kill you so soon and my dear, I simply can't wait for you to die."

_Khortdad Kedar._

"I was afraid of that…"

She had a split second to draw her sword before a blinding flash of light came from his open palm towards her. As she swung the sword to absorb the magic he withdrew his own sword and began to assail her both with magic and with steel.

_Oh Aslan…_Was the only prayer she could put forth before she was forced to defend herself in ways she'd never had to before. It wasn't long before he got his first blow to her open side with his sword. She felt it slice open the skin just above her hip and she couldn't help but cry out in both surprise and pain.

"You know, it stormed the night your parents died too, what a coincidence."

Fae forgot her pain as she tried to block a wave of magic and a hail of blows simultaneously. The dark man laughed a laugh that brought her back to the night before they landed on Terebinthia when she'd woken from a terrible dream filled with the same laughter.

"Oh, you remember me? Brilliant."

He took advantage of her brief recall of the night to aim a stream of powerful magic at her throat. The magic in her sword responded to it by pulling her into blocking her throat, but some of the magic refracted off and bit into her arms. As the magic began its work it ripped away her breath and she was left gasping from pain.

"Funny, you look exactly like your mother before I killed her."

That was his first mistake. Up until that point Fae had assumed he'd simply passed the burden of her parent's murder onto others, like he'd tried with her. Knowledge that he'd been the one to deliver her mother's death blow gave rise to an intense anger and ferocity that drove her forward. Bubblefuffin's words, so deeply carved into her brain, forced to her calm herself: _Rage is good, it gives you power, but you must control it. It will either be your ultimate tool or your ultimate downfall._

She took time to think about her actions, doing as Oreius had instructed her over and over again. She silently heaped blessings on both of her teacher's heads as their instruction paid off. Righteous anger made her powerful and careful evaluation made her effective. Khortdad Kedar barely had time to react to the onslaught of blows and momentarily focused only on his sword for his protection.

She drove him backward through an open door, one she realized starkly led to the room she and Peter shared. _Mustn't let him hurt Peter…_was the one frenzied thought that rushed through her brain.

"Don't worry about your precious husband. I won't forget to kill him as I killed the other Narnian noble, your father, so many years ago."

Even in while he was being beaten he was cocky and his arrogance drove her mad. Instead of a continued attack, however, she placed herself deliberately between the Calormene and Peter, allowing herself time to seethe. He shot repeated streams of magic at her, which the sword easily absorbed, but both were more intent on catching their breath.

"I killed your father in his sleep. I think I'll watch your husband suffer a bit first."

"_NO!_"

She flew at him with vengeance, thunder punctuating her cry. He tried to defend himself with magic before she got close enough to try to inflict any sort of a wound. What the sword didn't absorb she didn't seem to notice. The two spun in a complicated dance, each trying to inflict maximum injury on the other. Each accomplished their own intent but both refused to let up. Suddenly a moment of calm: Their swords met and for an instant they were face to face, nearly nose to nose.

"It's time for you to die young Queen."

He physically lifted her from the ground and threw her through the glass doors leading to a balcony overlooking the swollen sea. She landed on the wet marble in a sea of shattered glass. Her nightgown was cut to ribbons, as was a great deal of her skin. She'd had enough sense to cover her head and her body had instinctively landed in the least damaging way, as taught by Oreius, but she'd lost her sword in flight.

She did her best to ignore the pain that flooded every inch of her. The cold rain did its part to rouse her from what certainly would have been unconsciousness as she was instantly drenched. His laughter filled the air around her and in a flash of lightening she saw his face for the first time.

His face, cut up as it was from her own sword, is not nearly as important as the other two things she saw though. The first important item: her sword, cleansed from his blood by the rain and glittering in the light. The second: a glimmer in the air around the edges of door she had presently flown through. I realize this does not seem nearly as important as you were hoping, but it was indeed a very good thing.

"Are you ready to meet your parents Queen?"

She had anticipated the magic that shot from both of his hands and summoned all her strength to do a summersault, blessing Kiran and his horrible idea for tumbling and dance lessons. In an instant her sword was in her hands and in the same move that blocked his magic from her body she used the sword to absorb the shimmer of magic from the door a lift the spell of sleep. At least that's what she hoped. She really had no time for anything else because the power in the magic he was sending to her was unlike any she'd ever dealt with before. She could tell the sword had never dealt with it either because it wasn't absorbing all of it, just reflecting it and casting it back at him. With his other hand he gathered the magic that was reflected and sent it back at her. It was as if she was pushing a brick wall away from her with her sword. It took all her strength to hold it steady and she sent a desperate plea to Aslan for help, knowing full and well that if the sword faltered the magic would kill her.

OoOoOo

_Peter, she needs you…_

Aslan's voice obliterated the fog that clouded his mind after the enchanted sleep. Peter jumped with a shout and shot out of bed. Not just a dream, Fae wasn't there. His heart hammered double time. Blinding light shone in the windows, but it was too early for the sun to be up. _Wait, what's that? Oh Aslan…_

There, standing just outside the door to the balcony was Fae, a dark pool forming beneath her feet, her face lit by the whitish-green glow of what he could only guess was magic. He couldn't see her assailant, couldn't care. All he saw was that she was not in good condition and was growing weaker by the second.

He winged a prayer to Aslan for help and for strength and rushed to her side. Her arms were trembling and the sword was wavering. The magic seemed to push her and she faltered. He saw the panic in her eyes just before his arms wrapped around her and his hands covered her own.

"I've got you," he whispered into her ear.

His love burst through her veins and filled her mind. There was a surge in her strength and she stood straighter. Together they pressed forward against the Calormene. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to be phased.

"Oh wonderful!" The dark magician cried, "I get to kill you both at the same time."

It seemed impossible, but the pressure of the magic doubled. Fae screamed and even Peter couldn't help but cry out in surprise.

"Like that do you? I've never killed a High King before. It ought to be an empowering experience.

"That's my brother you're talking about chump."

Peter laughed with relief at the sound of Edmund's voice, still slurred by sleep. A moment later he felt his brother's presence at his elbow.

"Hold my arm Ed, we've got to keep the sword up."

"Aye."

"Anything we can do?"

Rhoswen's voice made Peter want to sing. He risked a brief glance over his shoulder to see that not only were his brother and Rhoswen there, but also Suleiman Siamak, Kiran, Aden and Lauren. They were all dressed in nightclothes, and he could tell that the aura of magic was still upon them, but they were there.

"Support her."

They fell in. Edmund grasped Peter's right arm and Rhoswen his left. Kiran took Edmund's arms in his hands and offered his strength. Suleiman gave Rhoswen his strength and Aden lent the older man his. Lauren supported both Aden and Kiran and completed the circle.

Khortdad Kedar retaliated with even more magic and they all felt the blow. Peter thought for a moment that they might all be doomed despite all their efforts. The man must have been deriving his power from Tash himself.

"Aslan…"

His name fell from Fae's lips and Peter slapped himself mentally. How foolish to forget his parting words: Faith and Love…

"_Aslan!_" She yelled with all the power in her. "_We love you!_"

Peter let the rest of the group know what was going on:

"Have faith in Him friends and don't forget how much we love one another. Please…"

His words had an effect, slow though it began it soon burned like wildfire. Fae focused on her love for Peter, for Rhoswen, and most of all, for Aslan. Peter focused on his love for his wife, for his brother, for Aslan. Rhoswen focused on her love for Fae, a newly realized love for Suleiman and an undying love for Aslan. On it went, each loving the others fiercely and loving Aslan terribly. Power spun through the circle, Aslan's love and grace and hope filled their souls. A pure, white light shone from them, they were energized. As one they leaned into the magic and slowly began taking ground.

The power of the magic intensified as the distance it traveled grew smaller. Fae was once again face to face with the Calormene when she tipped the point of her sword ever so slightly forward.

The magic enfolded itself upon him and the only way to describe it is that Khortdad Kedar exploded into a million pieces.

Their shouts of thanksgiving surpassed the noise of the thunder. There was much hugging and laughing and dancing and as much general merrymaking as there could be without music or food or wine. And then a horrified cry silenced them all.

Peter's face was distraught and helpless, tears mingling with the rain. In his arms he held Fae's motionless, bleeding body.


	25. 29

Chapter 35

_In Which Hearts Are Broken_

"How is she?"

The doctor, a grizzly Dwarf whom Edmund recognized as belonging to the army back in the days of Beruna, drew him further away from the door of small cabin he'd just emerged from. When he finally spoke it was in hushed tones, as if ashamed of what he divulged.

"I don't like it, Sire. Not one bit. Between the pneumonia, the wounds and the magic…I can't say I know how she still lives."

Edmund bit his lower lip and took a step back to peer inside the cracked door. His older brother was in the same position he'd been in since he'd carried his wife onto the ship and deposited her on the bed two days ago: kneeling, holding her hands, eyes fixed desperately on her face. Edmund could see his lips moving in soundless prayer. With a sad sigh he shut the door, feeling his brother's pain, yet not knowing the depth.

"I know what keeps her here."

OoOoOo

_Aslan, help her to hang on. Please. Speed up the ship. Get us home quickly. Oh Aslan, I need her. Don't let her die. Please. Don't let her die. Bring her back to me. Please Aslan…_

It was his repeated litany, words tumbling over and over in his head, sometimes spilling from his lips, over and over again until it wasn't so much the words he was winging to Aslan, but his desperation, his fear, his need.

After she'd collapsed in his arms and he'd realized she was, in fact, alive it had only taken them minutes to decide she needed to go back to Narnia and Lucy's cordial. Unfortunately it had taken longer for it to be safe for her to cross the treacherous sea. Between waiting for the storm to die down and waiting for a vessel to be readied, Peter felt for sure that he would lose his mind. Finally, just at dawn, the storm had subsided. The water was still choppy, but it was sailable. He sent birds ahead of them, telling Lucy to get on a ship as soon as possible and to meet them halfway.

While they were waiting, doctors had bound her wounds and sewn up her gashes as best they could. The entire time she'd opened her eyes only once, but groans had escaped her lips that tore at Peter's heart. Somewhere in the midst of dressing her wounds, she had begun to shake with chills and the cough he'd come to hate ravaged her lungs. The doctors immediately diagnosed her with pneumonia and had forced a concoction down her throat to help. However, they hadn't known how to treat the magical wounds. The only signs of the magic were rashes on her skin, but the doctors feared that beneath the skin the magic was, to quote the Red Dwarf "doin' a number on her innards." They had done their best to get her warm, dressing her in a flannel nightdress and wrapping her in thick blankets and she eventually stopped shaking.

It seemed too much. He felt that it was impossible for so much to go wrong so quickly. He kept wishing that she would sit up and start laughing at how she'd fooled them all. But she didn't and with each minute his fear heightened a little more.

OoOoOo

She fought the fog that clouded her mind and threatened to take over her body. Her eyelids felt as though ten pound bags of flour rested upon them. It was so cold and she was so tired. From far away, she heard someone calling her name. She tried to open her eyes, but oh! the light hurt. The darkness was nice and quiet and as she eased herself into it, the pain subsided just the tiniest bit. Whoever was calling for her was getting farther and farther away. She thought briefly that the voice sounded familiar, but she just couldn't place it. Besides, it was growing fainter, less urgent. She decided that perhaps, whoever it was didn't need her so badly, and she let the darkness claim her.

OoOoOo

Pain! Searing pain!

She was jerked from the arms of darkness and into a pain that flooded her being from all directions. It sent the darkness and fog into remission and for the briefest of moments she remembered everything. Her eyes flew open and she gasped. Blue eyes bright with emotion swam before her and they made the pain more bearable. Her eyelids fluttered and the pain began to ebb as she lapsed gratefully into the darkness. Just before she was lost to the world, she heard the faintest of voices whispering her name, but she ignored it.

OoOoOo

She became aware of things in slow phases. First was the pain. Her entire body was laced with it, although it wasn't the awful searing pain she remembered. This was a persistent throbbing that permeated her being and sent her mind spinning. It felt as if she was on fire within and it was almost unbearable. Not only did she ache from what seemed to be a million wounds to her body, but the very blood flowing through her veins brought her pain. It took her a long time to get past the incredible pain and reach even further into consciousness.

Slowly, so slowly, she became aware of other things. She felt herself breathing, though each breath was painful. She felt something beneath her shifting, remembering the sensation from another time, but not remembering what the sensation was. And then there were the sounds. She became acutely aware of noise, for each pounded at her brain like a hammer into wood. There was the sound of the wind moaning, the creaking of floors, Peter's steady breathing as he slept.

Peter. His name made her happy and seemed to ease the pain. If he was sleeping it was probably terribly late. He never got to bed early. She smiled as she began to drift back into the darkness. Peter would wake her in the morning. With that thought comforting her, she submitted to the darkness.

A lion's roar shattered everything.

Her eyes flew open and she immediately squeezed the shut, a groan escaping her lips. Peter's head flew up and their sleepy, blinking eyes met. He stared at her almost in disbelief and she smiled, her dry lips cracking, the muscles in her face protesting with vengeance.

"Hullo," she whispered, her voice rough after so long a silence.

Tears filled his eyes and overflowed to his cheeks. His hands gently squeezed hers.

"I was so afraid for you," he whispered, pressing a kiss into each palm.

"I'm sorry…" she murmured, trying to squeeze his hand back, but failing rather miserably.

"No, don't be. You're back now. We're headed towards Narnia now and Lucy is on her way with her cordial and when we meet in the middle you'll be good as new. You'll see. And you will stay with me forever and they will sing of us in ballads in a million years. Everything's right now."

She didn't respond right away. Her only sign that she'd even heard him was a slow nod and a faint smile. She had never felt this weak before, it was an all consuming task just to keep her eyes focused upon his face. Still, she didn't want him to know.

"We're at sea?"

"Aye and we should meet with Lucy before the week is out. About four days."

"Where are the others?"

Peter gave a start, remembering that everyone else who would want to know she was awake. He kissed her hands again and hurried to the door.

"Ed! Edmund! Bring Rhoswen and the doctor quickly! She's awake!"

The small room was soon bustling with people. Rhoswen was there, of course, along with Edmund (they'd left the others in Terebinthia to keep things under control). Then there were two doctors, one the Narnian Dwarf and the other a Terebinthian. They brought with them their assistants and a nurse. There was so much hubbub that the three non-medical personal were thrown out of the room for the time being.

Peter and Edmund were celebrating, clapping each other on the back and grinning like idiots. Rhoswen smiled, but it was half-hearted. She didn't join in their celebration, nor did the light that had vanished from her pale eyes when she'd seen her niece collapse return. Her mood soon brought the two kings back to the ground.

"What is it?" Peter questioned.

Rhoswen made no show of false pretenses. Her eyes were pained as she spoke.

"I've known that child her entire life. Her joy has been my joy and her sorrow my sorrow. Every pain that she has felt I have felt just as acutely. I tell you, Kings of Narnia, she is not right. For that reason, I am afraid."

Peter froze and the hand that was on his brother's shoulder clung to his tunic desperately. His eyes met Edmund's and they were pleading with him for reassurance. They spoke to his brother as loudly as his voice would have:_ She's lying. She doesn't know what she's talking about. Tell her she's wrong._ Edmund bit his lip, unable to do as his brother wanted. Peter's hand dropped from his brother's shoulder and hung limply at his side. Anything he was about to say was cut off when the two doctor's emerged from the cabin.

Since the other two seemed afraid to ask, Edmund took the initiative.

"Well?"

"You Majesties, my Lady..." The Terebinthian didn't seem to be able to continue.

"She's dying, my King," the Dwarf said in a manner that was as gentle as a Dwarf could be.

Rhoswen's eyes closed and she swayed. Peter's entire body shook collectively as all the air left him. Edmund put a hand on a shoulder of each one, steadying them gently.

"You're sure?"

"She speaks of fatigue and pain. Her pulse is weak and she had difficulty breathing..."

Peter left them in the midst of the doctor's list, pushing through them and their aides to get to the door. Both doctor's appeared alarmed, but Edmund kept them from stopping him.

"He will cause her no harm. She needs him just as much as he needs her. Now, is there anything we can do to make her more comfortable?"

OoOoOo

Fae was lying motionless on the bed, her eyes closed.

"Did she...?"

"Just resting, your Majesty," the nurse stated, calming him.

"Leave us then."

"But..."

"Now." Peter said, without looking at her.

She nodded and slipped out of the cabin. Peter walked to his wife's side and knelt. She looked at him through heavily lidded eyes.

"Peter..."

"Shhh. You rest. You need to save your strength."

"Peter...listen...to me."

"I don't think I'll like what you have to say."

"I'm trying...my love. Truly...I am. I want to...be strong...for you...But... I'm afraid...I think I'm...dying..."

"No! Don't be! You're going to be fine." His breathing grew ragged, but he held his tears at bay. "Don't you dare talk like that."

She took a deep breath and winced at the pain. Rhoswen saved her from speaking. She slipped through the door on silent feet and moved to rest her hand on his shoulder.

"High King Peter, you must rest."

"I'm not tired."

"Peter, I need just a minute with her."

Peter realized how selfish he was being and nodded. He brushed a kiss against her forehead and stood to leave. As he left, Rhoswen took his spot and he heard the beginning of Fae's first goodbye. He felt as if he were being hit with a thousand fists as it sank in that she was actually in danger of dying. He then rushed from the room, throwing himself through the door and right into Edmund. He looked into his brother's eyes and seeing the love and pain that was reflected in them, lost control.

"Oh Ed..." he sobbed, clutching his younger brother for dear life.

Edmund could do nothing but wrap his arms around Peter and offer him his own strength. His brother responded by hanging onto him tighter and gripping the back of his tunic like it was a lifeline. It was not too long before Edmund's tunic was rather soaked with tears. Edmund did what he could, stroking his brother's hair and murmuring soft words, but to no avail. Finally, Peter spoke into Edmund's shoulder:

"Ed, I'm so afraid. I can't live without her. I just can't."

"I know. I know, Peter. I know."

He knew that he truly didn't know; may never know, but he knew his brother's pain, and that was enough. So he held him all the tighter, not knowing what else to do. Thankfully, he didn't need to do more for Rhoswen had quietly slipped from the cabin, her face tearstained.

"She's asking for you. Both of you."

Peter straightened and wiped away the remnant of his tears. Edmund smoothed his tunic and then gently clasped Rhoswen's shoulder. She looked at him and her eyes pierced his soul. He remembered someone else looking at him like that...The same hurt, the same pain...Someone he'd loved very much...He didn't remember who had given him such a look, or when.

Fae smiled faintly upon seeing them come in. She was slightly propped up on pillows and nearly looked alert. Peter was at her side in an instant, caressing her hands, brushing hair from her face and the like. Edmund hung back, not wanting to interrupt. She would have none of it.

"Edmund."

He inwardly winced at the sound of her voice, not realizing that she was so bad. He put on a smile and came to stand behind Peter. Their eyes met over the High King's head and he knew that she was telling him goodbye.

"Ed...take care of him for me...You and I...we have the same heart...in regards...to him... Don't let him mourn...too long..." He raked a hand through his hair, discomfited by the tone of this conversation. "And Edmund...tell the girls...tell them how...much I love them both...and how much...I wanted to tell them...myself...Promise me?"

"I do."

"And Ed...you...are a brother...to my heart..."

He smiled softly. "And you a sister to mine." He knelt beside Peter and squeezed her hand. "I'll leave you now."

She and Peter (who'd not spoken yet) watched him leave. When the door had closed behind him, she turned her eyes upon his face and began to cry for the first time. Peter's eyes widened in alarm and he reached for her, cradling her face in his hands.

"What's wrong? Should I call for the doctor? What can I do?"

"No...not the doctor..." She sighed, struggling to regain control, but tears still seeped from her eyes.

"What is it then?" he asked, trying to wipe her tears away with the pads of his thumbs. "Tell me."

She gazed upon him with stricken eyes:

"I don't want...to die...Peter...I'm... I'm frightened...I don't want...want to be... without you..." She began to sob.

Tears filled his eyes once again and he struggled to regain the ability to breathe. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers and they cried together, their tears running together on her face. They stayed like that until both their tears subsided. He kissed her forehead and pulled away. She fought against the all-consuming tiredness and ignored the pain, and instead focused on his face.

"I love you so..."she whispered.

He could not reply for all the emotion that was caught in his throat.

"You'll be...alright...without me..." she stated softly. He jerked away from her as if he'd been slapped.

"No! No, I will not. You are everything! I love you...I need you. I can't live without you. Please don't make me. I can't do it. Fae, my darling Fae...I just can't."

She exhaled and closed her eyes. She was so still for so long that Peter began to panic. As if she knew he was about to cry out, she opened her eyes.

" My Peter...my sweet...magnificent Peter...How I love you...But...you have to...to let me go..." He turned his head from her. She clutched his hand tightly. "Peter...I will be with you...forever...Do not tell me...I live not...in your heart..."He slowly turned his eyes back to hers. "We will...be together...again. It's just...temporary...Please...don't be angry...Please...It hurts more...more than anything..."

Hurt and anguished tears poured from beneath his closed eyes. After an eternity he nodded, his body a picture of defeat.

"Thank you..." she whispered.

Minutes passed until the minutes had turned into an hour, then an hour and a half. They both sat in silence, the specter of death hanging over them. Finally, after far too long a silence, she spoke:

"Peter...hold me..."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"It hurts more...not being in...in your arms."

He stood and gently lifted her from the bed clothes, taking extreme care not to jar her. He held her like a baby as he sat upon the bed, his back against the wall, his wife cradled in his arms. She did not cry out, though the pain of movement was excruciating. He arranged the pillows so they supported her back as well as his arm. When they finally settled, she was breathless with pain and the room was spinning. She buried her face in his chest to make it stop. His heart beat in her ears and his breath caressed her hair and the warmth of his arms finally filled her with peace.

When the pain had somewhat subsided and the room and ceased its spinning, she pulled her head away from him. It took all her strength to lift her hand and pull his face towards her. Their last kiss was the sweetest, most painful, most wonderful, most terrible thing either of them had ever felt. When they finally pulled away from each other, both knew there was no need for anymore words. Soon they fell asleep in each other's arms, both utterly exhausted.

Hours later, he woke to hear her whisper his name with her last breath. She died just as the sun burst forth over the suddenly still sea.


	26. 30

**Author's Nore**: It's finally done! Yahoo. Sorry about the wait. Thank you to everyone who's reviewed or added me to your favorites/alerts or even read the story. I deeply appreciate it.

Chapter 36

_In Which Peter is Comforted_

Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the salty air. When he finally opened them again his heart was calmer. He stared out over the water, imagining he could see her island in the distance. He'd spent the nights since arriving back in Narnia pacing the beaches, unable to sleep. Every thing he saw reminded him of her, but here, at the water's edge, the memories were happier.

After she'd died, the ship had headed back to Terebinthia and they'd sent word to Lucy that she was to go back home. Fae was buried with her parents, at his insistence and to Rhoswen's relief. Edmund had handled as many of the technical issues with finding a new ruler as he could on his own. Rhoswen was unanimously selected, to her great amazement and they'd left the country nearly a month after Fae's death. The girls greeted them in mourning clothes and a few days later they held a Narnian funeral to celebrate the life of the Lady of Cair Paravel.

Her funeral had been nearly two months ago, and Peter had hardly slept since they put her in the ground. He knew that his family was worried about him. After his third night on the beach Susan had approached him to try and coax him inside. She ended up in his arms, crying for the loss of her friend. The next night Lucy had come to him in her nightgown to try and convince him to get some sleep. That had also ended with weeping, hers, not his. Edmund hadn't cried. His little brother had barely said anything, simply tried to offer comfort as only he could. Except Peter would not be comforted. Susan and Lucy had both tried once again, and to please them he'd gone in. But as soon as he knew they were both asleep, he'd had snuck back outside. Now they just let him be.

In front of his subjects he was as he'd always been, if only a bit more stoic. They all knew how much he'd loved her, but no one saw how he hurt. When he'd first learned of his marriage, so many months ago, he'd imagined life without her and his heart had broken. Now that his life was truly absent of her he felt as if his heart been ripped from his chest and slowly his lifeblood was seeping from the wound.

"Dear child."

He spun around and saw the Great Lion, moonlight bouncing off his golden mane and making the air around him all but shimmer. Aslan's eyes were sad and his expression gentle. When their gazes joined Peter fell to his knees, the grief becoming too much to bare alone. Aslan was there in an instant and lowered his head to nuzzle the High King, who seemed to be a little boy as he clung to the soft fur of his mane. Aslan felt his anguish and his heart ached for the young man. As the night grew deeper, more stars made their appearance in the night sky, shining and glassy and gleaming in such a way that it seemed the sky itself was crying for the High King. As the wind rushed from over the sea and wrapped it's chilly arms around them, it moaned and wailed. The very land trembled and it seemed that all of Narnia felt the High King's pain, but nothing could stop it. It just flowed from the empty place where his heart used to be and gushed onto the ground.

When the moon was high in the sky he sat back on his heels, empty. No words crossed his lips, none were needed. Aslan could see through him, see the gapping black hole where his heart had once resided. Aslan knew how much he had been hurt, how confused he was, how the questions ran through his treacherous mind. Peter knew there was a reason, but what? How could Aslan be so cruel as to give her to him, take her away, give her back and take her away again? It was senseless. There had to be some explanation. There just had to be.

But Aslan didn't offer any. He stood and began to walk towards the forest, pausing to meet Peter's eyes over his shoulder and then onto into the forest. Peter, not knowing what else to do, stood and followed. Aslan had all but disappeared into the trees, but Peter saw the moon glance off his golden side and hurried to catch up. Aslan quickened his pace and it was all Peter could do to keep the great Lion in sight. They ran deep into the forest, deeper than Peter had ever ventured before. After hours of running, Peter had completely lost his bearings. The trees grew close together and the canopy they created above him began to block the moonlight until Peter was just following a glimmer in the night. Nothing stirred as he ran through the woods, even the wind had stopped blowing. All the world seemed to be sleeping except the man and the Lion.

Peter began to grow weary. He hadn't slept in ages and his steps began to falter. He stubbed his toes on rocks and tripped over roots and once, ran into a tree. But Aslan didn't stop, so neither did he.

Suddenly, the moon disappeared. Or, perhaps it had been gone for awhile and Peter hadn't noticed. He only realized the moon was gone because Aslan's golden body was no longer glimmering because of it. He was alone in the darkness.

Peter stopped moving and his muscles began to scream. He turned around several times, looking for any light, any hope, any _thing._ There was none. His legs gave out and he fell to his knees.

"Aslan!" The only sound in response was his labored breathing. Anger flowed through his veins, shoving rationality away and making his head throb.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" he screamed, grabbing handfuls of the loam he rested on and throwing it into the air. It rained down on his shoulders and head and that made him angrier. "WHY?" he yelled, jumping to his feet again, ignoring the flash of pain that went through his legs at the sudden movement. "Why Aslan? How could you! She was everything to me. You gave her to me! You saw my heart! You knew I needed her! Why would you take her away? I don't understand. I've tried to be rational, tried to figure it out. But I can't!" His voice cracked and tears suddenly ran down his cheeks. "I can't . . .I'm so lost without her. I don't know what to do. I don't feel . . .anything. Nothing's right anymore. The world's stopped making sense and I don't understand!" He was on his face, sobbing into the ground and he didn't care. "Aslan! I needed her. So much. I loved her, like nothing I've ever felt before, I loved her. And now I don't know what to do! I miss her so . . ."

He could find no more words. He just lay there on the ground, sobbing. They were the first tears that he'd cried on Narnian soil and they cleansed his soul in ways he didn't think possible. Every tear seemed to coax his heart back to his body, seemed to replenish the lifeblood he'd lost. When he was finally finished he felt like a person again. There was a warmth at his back. The sun, he thought. But no, that didn't make sense. The ground in front of his face was dark, shadowed. Just beyond him the grass was edged in gold, like it tends to when the sun rises. The rising sun didn't provide the sort of warmth that was at his back.

He sat up and found the source of the warmth: Aslan. The Lion had curled his body around Peter's, his great head just above where Peter's had lain a moment ago. Beyond Aslan there was nothing except sky. His body was all that kept Peter from the edge of a cliff, the base of which he could not see.

"Oh Aslan . . ." he whispered.

The King of kings spoke before he could say anything else. "Peter, even if darkness consumes you I will always be there. If you are lost beyond comprehension, I will guide you out. The love you felt for Fae was like a single grain of sand on the beach compared to my love for you." Peter began to protest. "Child, all the sand on the beach doesn't begin to explain my love for you. Or for her."

"Why would you let her die if you loved her so?"

Tears welled in the Great Lion's eyes and he spoke gently, even though his words were reproachful, "I did no such thing. Yes, I brought the two of you together. Gave her to you and you to her, as you would say. But I had played no more of a part in her death than you did."

Peter didn't know what to say at first, and for a long time he didn't say anything at all. Finally he put the thoughts swarming in his head into words: "But why would you bring us together in the first place? Couldn't I have just lived without her and her without me? It would have been so much easier."

"Easier? Yes. But better?"

He was silent for a long time before he answered. "No."

"No, my son. You were given her because I love you. In loving her you now understand my love a bit better. You may have been able to exist without ever knowing her, but your life has been enriched by knowing and loving her. It brought you closer to me. Besides," his voice was a shade lighter, "would you have chosen life without her?"

Peter didn't have to hesitate and he even smiled. "No, sir."

"That is good."

"Indeed."

"Peter, Narnia misses her High King. Are you ready to return to your post?"

"Most ready. And I am sorry I abandoned them, sir."

"It is over now. I trust you will not do it again."

"No, sir." Peter stood and walked to the path leading away from the cliff, now visible and inviting in the sunlight. He paused before he laid a foot on it, turning back to the Great Lion: "Is she happy, Aslan?"

The King of kings understood the question within the question and answered it with all the gentleness he possessed, "She is finally home." He paused, a small smile lighting his face. "She is happy, but," the smile grew, "she anticipates your arrival. She can't wait to see you, Peter."

That was good enough for Peter. He turned and started down the path, his heart already lighter.

"And Peter?" The High King paused on path, one foot in midair. "She sends her love."

Peter shuddered visibly at Aslan's words and ran back to throw his arms about Aslan's neck, the beautiful golden mane soaking up Peter's tears. After he'd cried himself out for the second time, he sat back on his heels and gave Aslan a small smile.

"Send her mine, Aslan. And tell her I can't wait either."

Aslan laughed.


End file.
